I dressed up, excited to have an excuse to wear something a little bit nicer for a change. I was generally a dress kind of girl, but when you spend the majority of your nights at home, it’s hard to rationalize changing out of your jeans.
“Someone’s looking hot.” Juliet grinned.
“Same to both of you. Watch out, Charleston.”
Mallory laughed. “Well, since we’re all officially unavailable now, that’s okay.”
“Are we definitely going to Club Tango?” I put on some lip gloss.
Juliet slipped on her strappy sandals. She wore sandals nearly year round. “Yes. I’m not pushing my luck at Ion’s again. They are cracking down on IDs.”
I tossed the lip gloss in my favorite go-to black purse. “I don’t care where we go as long as we can dance. We haven’t been out in so long.”
“I know. We have to start making this a monthly event at least.” Mallory slipped into her black three inch pumps. I was wearing an identical pair in red. As much as I wanted a girl’s night, part of me wished Chase was around to see me. I shrugged off the thought. I could dress up another night for him.
“You both ready?” I asked, itching to get out.
“Absolutely.” Juliet headed to the door and we both followed.
We slipped into a cab so we didn’t need to worry about a designated driver, and ten minutes later we were pulling up outside the club. We waited in a small line before showing our IDs to the bouncer. No matter how many times my ID worked, I always worried.
“What do you guys want to drink?” I asked. “I’ll buy the first round.” Even though I was nervous about getting carded, I liked to get my turn over with.
“I want one of those pink love potion drinks again.” Mallory glanced at the bar.
“Sounds perfect.” I turned to Juliet. “What about you?”
“Same.”
I waited while the bartender served a few people, but then she finally turned to me. “Three Love Potions.”
“I’ll get those for her.” A guy moved in close to me.
“That’s okay. I’ve got them.”
“My pleasure. I’m guessing all three aren’t for you?” he asked.
“No. I’m here with friends.” You never want a creepy guy to think you’re alone.
“I’m here with friends too. Maybe we can all hang out?”
“No, thanks. We’re here for a girl’s night.”
“Aren’t girl’s nights really just cover for you to go out and meet men?” The guy had to be in his late twenties. He probably assumed I was at least twenty-one, but he had to know I was younger.
“Not for us.” I turned toward the bar, hoping he’d lose interest.
As soon as the bartender returned, I slipped my cash on the bar.
He put a hand next to mine. “I said I’d get them.”
“And I said no thank you.” I handed the money to the bartender and scooped up all three drinks without worrying about the change.
“What’s the problem? Can’t handle a guy buying you drinks?” He inched in closer, blocking me from my friends view.
“I’m really not interested.” I tried to inch around him, but holding three drinks made it difficult.
“At least let me help you with those.”
“No, thanks. I’d just like it if you’d get out of my way.”
“How old are you?” He leaned in close enough that I could feel his breath on my face, but an alarm went off. This guy wasn’t really hitting on me.
Oh my god. This was it. The end of my life. The guy was probably a cop. “I’m twenty-two.” I quickly replied with the age from my fake.
“Twenty-two?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I tried to control my breathing. Getting nervous wasn’t going to help my cause. But if I got a Drinking Under Age notation, I was toast. Toast. My parents would kill me.
“What about your friends, are they twenty-one?”
“Of course.”
“Is there a problem here?” A deep and familiar voice asked as an equally familiar arm snaked around my waist.
“I thought you were here for a girl’s night?” the guy asked.
“That’s what she thought. Her friends set her up. I’ve been missing my girl, here.” Aaron’s hand moved down my back. I froze.
“How old is your girl?”
Please don’t screw me over I begged silently. Aaron knew I said twenty-two. He’s the one who helped me get the ID.
“Twenty-two.” He rubbed my back. “Turning twenty-three soon.”
The guy stepped away. Was he going to ask for my ID?
“Be careful. You might make her spill those drinks.” The guy, who I was now 100% positive was a cop, walked away.
I tried to move away from Aaron, but he stopped me. “Hey, nice save, huh?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I hoped he realized that helping me out didn’t change anything.
“Where are your roommates? At least I assume that’s who you’re with.” He gazed down at the drinks. If I’d been holding beers, he’d have probably been interrogating me.
“They were over there. Now I lost them.”
“I’ll help you find them.”
“Is Reed here?” For one horrible second, I wondered if he’d been telling the truth and my friends had set me up. There was no way. Just no way.
“Nope. I’m here with Ryan.”
“Oh. Nice.”
“Let me help you.” He pulled two drinks from me before I could respond. His eyes raked over me. “You look so hot in halter dresses.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Hearing him say that reminded me of the many times he’d untied a halter dress I was wearing. The thought of it made my stomach turn.
“But you look even better underneath.”
“Aaron. Please.” I looked away. Mallory and Juliet couldn’t be that far.
“What?”
“Give me the drinks. I’m going to find my friends.”
“You do know who that guy was, right? If I hadn’t stepped in, you’d be getting written up or brought downtown. Is that really what you want?”
“I already said thank you.”
“Do you want me to get him back over here? Ask him to study your ID?”
“Don’t mess with me.”
“No, don’t mess with me. I told you that you needed me. I just proved my point.”