I sigh and let myself into my empty, lonely house. I get a faint whiff of...cologne?...and quickly light my favorite candles to disperse the smell.
I guess I have a date to get ready for. What does one wear to be apologized to by the men who changed and nearly ended your life? We’re going to Vee, so I guess I should make some sort of effort. I just don’t want them to think that I think it’s a date. It’s just apology drinks. In the hottest club in town. With the hottest guys in town. Damn.
I grab a quick snack and head upstairs to get ready. Surveying my options in dismay, I decide I really need to get a better wardrobe. It’s at times like these that being an only child sucks; if I had a twin or even just a sister, I could raid her closet. I pick up my phone, rattle off a quick SOS message in the group chat with my girlfriends, and go for a shower. Hopefully one of them at least will reply while I’m away.
Once out of the shower, I return to my room in my towel and check my phone for replies to my SOS message.
Me: Ladies, SOS! What the hell does one wear to apology drinks at Vee? X
Dahlia: Standard answer, Little Black Dress.
Calluna: Something slutty!
Buttercup: Whatever makes you feel sexy. Tease him while you make him work for that apology.
Me: Tease them. There’s two guys apologising. One tried to kill me, the other tried to trick me. Long story...
Buttercup: If you’re planning on accepting the apologies, make ‘em want it...bad! Show ‘em what they’re missing!
Lupine: Wear red! Draws the eyes.
Sapphire: Pajama pants and sweatshirt. If they really want you, they’ll think you look hot anyway.
Willow: Put the girls on display!
I chuckle and type out a quick reply.
Me: Thanks guys! So I’m wearing a low cut little black dress in red, with pajama pants under it and a baggy sweatshirt? Don’t know what I’d do without you all! x
I toss my phone on the bed, laughing, and decide I’m probably on my own with the fashion advice. I decide to just wear what I feel comfortable and nice in. I opt for a black off the shoulder dress with chiffon sleeves and flower embroidery. I pair it with my denim jacket and biker boots, but decide to go all out on my long dark hair, styling it into loose but voluminous curls that bounce when I move.
After that and a slick of lipgloss, I’m pretty much ready, so I sit down to read a little more of the naughty romance book. Every time I see the book, I cringe a little inside, but the awful cheesy cover aside, the story is actually very good. I settle back and enjoy…
***
“Shit! I’m gonna be late!” It feels like I’ve been reading for twenty minutes, but when I check the time, I realize I don’t have long to get across town to Vee. I race downstairs, grab my bag and fly out the door to my truck.
I manage to park close to the club, which is a bonus. I’m dead nervous, so I just kinda sit in the truck for a bit, refusing to get out. It’s stupid. What am I doing here? Why am I going for drinks with either of these guys? I don’t need apologies. I need a dog. A real dog. Ugh. This sucks.
I clamber out of my truck, lock up and head to Vee. There’s a new guy working on the door and as I join the line to get in—which thankfully isn’t too long—I can’t take my big brown eyes off him. He’s tall...like crazy tall. Who the hell am I kidding? I don’t give a shit about his height.
He’s built like a shit brick house. Damn it, I mean a brick shithouse. I can’t even think straight now. He’s that fucking hot. I mean tall. Ah, fuck me. Fuck it. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I have never been so strongly and instantly attracted to anyone in my life; and that’s saying something because I used to have such a strong crush on Patrick Swayze. New bouncer is 6’6, easy. Short shaved hair, stubble, and arms that could crush small chubby kids with ease.
Sometimes, you want the kind of sex that’s gonna leave you unable to walk. You want a man who can throw you around the room like a rag doll. Only, when I look at this guy, I worry that he’ll throw me through the wall rather than against it. And I’m okay with that. Very okay. Like, where do I sign up, okay.
“Evening, Miss…”
Oh god, am I at the front of the queue already?
“Jasmine,” I stutter, thinking that he’s pausing for me to supply my name.
“Well, Miss Jasmine, you have a good night now.” He smirks at me. His voice is so low, gruff and gravelly that the vibrations give me tingles all over.
I jump when someone clears their throat impatiently behind me, and I realize that the bouncer was pausing to allow me through the door. Mortification heats every part of my body faster than the mountain of a man did. I duck my head and run, his deep chuckle haunting me with every step I take. No matter how far away from him I get, I hear the laughter of the crowd outside chasing me.
Ethics, Jas, ethics, I tell myself. My fingers itch to curse them. Or hex him at least.
“Jas, hey!” I look up to see Rowan’s friendly face smiling and waving at me from across the bar. It’s pretty early so this place is still functioning as a bar, turning into a nightclub much later. It’s not too busy yet either, which I like.
I make my way over to the booth Rowan is pointing to and eye up the red velvet privacy curtain. Okay, that will be staying open. Who needs privacy curtains in a nightclub? I briefly wonder what kind of club this is, but then remind myself that it’s full of supernaturals, so the curtains make a little more sense; unlike humans, not every species enjoys an audience while they eat.
I slide into the seat, and to my dismay Linden is sitting opposite.
“Why are you here?” I demand. “You weren’t invited.”
He gives me a massive shit-eating grin and damn it, why did he have to be so handsome?
“My brother and I pretty much do everything together.”
“Everything?” I ask, bemused.
“Everything,” he confirms. Then he gives me a knowing wink which makes my face heat.
“You’ve gone red,” he adds, and I scowl at him. That’s not gentlemanly to point out.
“Pretty sure everything in here is red. It’s the lighting.”
“Hey, Jasmine. I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Rowan says, sliding into the seat alongside me. He passes me and Linden a beer each, and although it’s not my usual drink of choice, I take it with a nod of thanks.
“I might not have if you’d told me he was going to be here too.”
It’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m giving Linden so much stick; he’s equally as good looking as Rowan. I’m as attracted to him physically. But Rowan definitely has the better personality. And that’s important.
“Touché.” Linden chuckles.
“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Ash calls, as he races over to our table. “I got called into work.”
“What do you do?” Linden asks while I’m able to feign disinterest. Now that Ash isn’t naked, and also no longer not-a-dog, it’s easier for me to take him in. Seeing him standing at full height, I think he’s nearer to six foot after all. He has a gorgeous five o’clock shadow that I’d like to feel scrape along the inside of my thighs.
Where did that thought come from?
“I’m a firefighter,” Ash says.