Page 4 of So I'll Know
My throat feels dry. I’ve been flirted with before, sure, but no one has ever been this forward. “I, uhhh?—”
Tris pushes up next to me and carefully removes He-Man’s hand. “Sorry, this one’s taken.”
“Oh, my bad,” the guy replies, stepping back.
“Fuck. Thank you,” I breathe when Tris guides me in the other direction and hands me another drink. “What’s this?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning.
I rub my short beard. “Am I rustic?” But then I also wonder why I care about what some strange dude thinks.
Tris purses his lips as we rejoin the others. “Yeah, honey, but that’s not a bad thing. Now follow me. My friend got us into the VIP lounge upstairs.”
We climb the steps to a balcony suite overlooking the chaos below. On the way, we pass dark hallways and private booths, and my mind starts to spin with curiosity.
What would I find if I pulled back one of those curtains?
Dancers circle poles throughout the space. Dressed in sparkly shorts and skimpy tops, they look like disco elves with their accentuated cheekbones, intricately styled hair, and glitter dusting every inch of their exposed skin. Watching them moveis the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen. I flush when I feel my dick twitch against my pants.
They’re all so pretty.
Tris nudges my shoulder, and I glance over at him. His green eyes assess me, sparkling in the ambient light. “Your mouth is open.” He presses his fingers to my chin.
Still staring, I follow Tris as he leads us to a large booth, then take a swig of my drink. It’s fruity and delicious, nothing like what I would order for myself. I finish it with another gulp.
Tris gives me a critical look. “For such a big guy, you’re kind of a lightweight.”
I frown. “I’m not drunk. Yet.”
But that changes quickly.
I don’t normally drink this much, especially since I’ve been working in Seattle. But tonight feels different. This club is debaucherous, but not in a bad way. Everyone is just. . .free. Free to dance. To laugh. To revel in each other. Free to be themselves. They all seem so empowered. It’s like I’m seeing the world in Technicolor, and in the back of my head, I wonder if I’ve been given something other than alcohol. But Tris has been ordering drinks for me, and I trust him. I fiddle with my straw, stirring the pink liquid absently.
“You doing okay?” Tris asks, leaning close.
I nod, but his cologne hits me hard, the smell of vanilla and strawberries overwhelming in a weirdly good way. My body flushes hot. I need to get out more. And get laid while I’m at it.
I swallow and try to find something safe to talk about. “Tell me more about our new designer.”
Tris raises an eyebrow. “You want to talk about work? Shocking.”
“Just humor me,” I grumble.
“He’s really cute,” he offers.
“Somethingrelevant, Tristan.”
“Okay, okay.” Tris taps his chin like he’s thinking. “He’s extremely talented. On the cusp of greatness, really.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Tris smiles. “He’s trying to start his own design firm, and he needs some high-profile clients to get there. Not just the income, but the reputation. You’ve seen my apartment.”
I recall Tristan’s apartment, which is colorful and yet sleek and modern, with a disarming charm that encompasses Tris’s eccentric taste. “There are a lot of. . .goats.”
“Well, of course there are.” Tris huffs a laugh. “Goats are both wise and lovable, just like me, so it stands to reason that they should be the centerpiece of my life.” Tristan smiles. “And while you may not understand my affinity for goats, did you find my place off-putting?”
I narrow my eyes. “No, I suppose not. It was very you, and it somehow worked.“
