Thomas
A bartender with fake platinum hair made time to dance around her space but couldn’t manage to get it in gear enough to shoot up a Jack and Coke and a club soda. Maybe her wig is on too tight? Thomas turned his back to the bar. It kept him from glaring at the woman.
He didn’t see the appeal of the garish club. It celebrated a time when people had terrible taste. It made Kick smile though, so he liked it. He never paid attention to the movies the place supposedly enshrined. Thomas could tell how much she adored them by the way her face lit over each additional detail she discovered. For that, too, he gave kudos to the management. Not so much for an efficient staff.
A too-young woman slinked down the length of the bar toward him. Normally, this would’ve been the beginning of a game to distract him. Lure her in, play the pursued, set the terms for the night. Women who approached first rarely looked for long-term relationships.
“Hey handsome, what’re you doing alone?” In a skimpy top revealing nothing, tight ripped jeans, and hooker shoes. The visual enhanced her “playing grown-up” vibe.
She insisted on touching his arm, making his skin crawl. When Kick had stroked his shirt, it made Thomas’s skin hum. “I’m not.”
Where the hell was the damn bartender?
“Get a girl a drink and I’ll listen to anything you want to say.”
She stepped into Thomas’s space, stroking his chest. He caught her wrist as he shifted back and hit the bar’s edge. A wild-haired brunette caught the corner of his eye. His wild-haired brunette.
“My name’s Lili.” The girl ran her tongue over her teeth.
She should never do that again. Christ, he’d bet she was no older than Rachel. The problem with being the pursued? The pursuer discouraged no as an answer. “Help a guy out here?” Thomas called over his shoulder.
Kick stepped closer, a smirk on her face. “You looked like you had everything under control.”
“We were talking,” Lee-whoever snarled at Kick.
“The conversation’s over, sweetheart,” Kick answered with the familiar disciplinary tone and stony stare he remembered from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. Like then, it stoked his fire.
“Tried to tell you… was waiting for my lady,” Thomas added.
“Her?” The girl’s face contorted. “She’s ancient.”
Kick slid her arm across the back of Thomas’s shoulders, and he finally took a deep breath. He liked bars with history. And regulars. He couldn’t relax here at all.
“The word you’re looking for is grown,” Kick said with a devilish glint in her eye. She waved her fingers. “Shoo now, little one.”
Thomas happily shrugged.
“Fuck off.” The co-ed wobbled away on her too-high heels, scanning the room for another sucker.
“Guess we’re even now?” Kick asked.
“How do you figure?”
“You bailed me out. Now I’ve rescued your pretty face.” She kissed his cheek for emphasis.
“I had to ask for your help.”
Kick’s brow raised as a corner of her mouth ticked up.
“Touché.” Thomas surrendered. He pulled her in close and kissed her quick. “Made your point.”
Kick scanned the bar top. “Where are the drinks?”
“We’ve been abandoned.” Thomas raised his hand once more, snapping his fingers to get Platinum’s attention.
“Hey Iona!” Kick bellowed. Platinum’s gaze shot their way, an apologetic pout on her face.
“I’m sorry, guys.”
“No worries. Can you have Ferris send our drinks over to the car?”
The bartender nodded. “Can do. Sorry again.”
“Isn’t this place great?” Kick asked as she swayed toward a booth resembling a Ferrari Spyder. “She looks just like Annie Potts from the movie. They’ve thought of all the things.”
“What movie?” Thomas stared at the booth while Kick slid in first.
“Pretty in Pink, Professor. Didn’t you pick up on the club’s theme?”
“I heard about it. Don’t know any of those films by name though.”
Kick clicked her tongue. “What rock have you been sleeping under? Do you even know why we’re sitting in this car? It’s one of the signature features here.”
After Thomas settled next to her, shaking his head, Kick explained Ferris Bueller to him, along with some vital aspects of eighties pop culture he’d missed.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t duck out earlier,” Kick said, absently teasing the drink straw with her tongue.
Thomas swallowed hard. He still craved getting her alone. The heat they’d created on the dance floor hovered on the edges of his control, waiting for permission to blaze. He took her hand into his lap, rubbing Kick’s palm with his thumb, tracing her lifeline.
“Do you ever do something just for yourself?”
She chuckled. “Do you?”
“You’re my just for me,” he answered, feeling the grin spread, hoping every muscle contraction would tell her the truth he had sworn to hold in.
“And you’re sweet.” Kick turned in to him, draping her free arm across the back of the booth. Her thumb mimicked Thomas’s as it stroked his neck. “Rachel picked this place for me, knowing how much I love eighties music. Then Cyndi pulled her magical strings and reserved the VIP spot. She mentioned another group has the second time slot or something.”
“So, y’all don’t plan on closing the place down?”
“Are you kidding?” Kick let a sexy chuckle roll through her body into Thomas’s. “I don’t know about you, Professor, but it already feels like two a.m.”
He finished his drink with his free hand. “Would you want to come back to my house after?”
Kick’s eyes lit up as a smile spread across her face. “Liam is spending the night at a friend’s house.” She scooted closer, enough for Thomas to peek at her purple satin bra and how well it embraced her perfect breasts. He bit his lip. Could they finally get their much-needed alone time?
She kissed his jaw and purred, “Your wish can be granted.”
Thomas picked up the tumbler to distract his shifting in the seat. Whether she gave him an eye twinkle or growling frown, each minute with Kick was doing the impossible. She cracked the safe he’d locked his heart away in, one slow tumbler tick at a time.
“Thank you, Genie.”
“No problem, sweets. Let me text Lee.” She let out a deep sigh, chuckling. “The kid thinks he’s my guardian now.”
Thomas couldn’t say he blamed the boy.
“There you two are,” Cyndi called out, moving toward the Ferrari.
A fit, middle-aged man hung out on the edge of Thomas’s vision. He stole quick glances over there to see if he recognized the guy and make sure he meant no harm.
“Where else would we be?” Kick chuckled. Cyndi leaned in and whispered something, causing a loud gasp from Kick. “That’s how you roll, not me.”
“Only saying…” Cyndi tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I would bless it.”
Kick bumped her friend’s shoulder, and they fell into each other, laughing. It didn’t take a rocket scientist—or a geneticist—to figure out that Cyndi had half expected to find them banging in a dark corner. As much as he would’ve accepted the offer, he was proud of Kick for rejecting the idea. He didn’t want any part of their relationship to be cheap.
Cyndi swayed too much in her seat, as if the room spun for her.
Rachel and her roommate dumped themselves into the other side of the booth. The server Kick called Ferris brought out a platter of wings she had ordered for the group, guessing everyone would return soon. As the kids dug in, Kick pulled something out of her purse, then unwrapped it.
“What do you have there?”
She bit off a piece of what looked like a Slim Jim. “A Paleo meat stick. I keep them around for emergencies, like needing extra protein to soak up any remaining alcohol.” She managed a sassy smile while chewing.
Thomas couldn’t resist the pull of the words. “A meat stick?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Save room for my meat stick when I get you home.”
Kick blushed and ducked her head. “Another reason for some extra energy.” She tapped his thigh. “Nice middle school joke, by the way.”
“Always.” Thomas winked and took a sip from his glass. The guy he’d kept his eye on stepped out of the shadows.
The man bent over the booth to speak to Cyndi. “Hi, I’m Randy. I loved watching you dance.”
“Ooh, I bet you are randy.” She batted her lashes, extending her hand for a flirty shake. “Muscled as well. I’m Cyn.”
Thomas chuckled as Kick turned toward him, rolling her eyes, mouthing, She loves being able to say that.
Randy grinned like he’d hit the Powerball jackpot. “No way. You look too much like an angel. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Mind if I disappear for a little while?” she asked after scooching out of the booth.
“If you must.” Kick feigned annoyance, but she squeezed Thomas’s hand under the table. Not for the first time, Cyndi reminded Thomas of Banger, who was conspicuously absent at the moment. It also didn’t take a PhD to figure out where he’d wandered off to. All those young ones downstairs? Hell, maybe the high-heeled princess had preyed on the man. Thomas laughed to himself at the thought.
“She’ll eat him up,” Kick muttered in Thomas’s ear. His brows shot up until he clued in that Kick was speaking of her friend and not his.
“I bet.” He took some wings for himself.
“Aren’t you having any, Mama?” Rachel took advantage of the empty space and slid next to Kick, who shook her head.
“The sauce isn’t safe. No worries for you though. They’re grilled, not fried.” Kick glanced over her shoulder. “I thought the fellas you found might like some.”
“They went back to their booth.” Rachel dropped a bone and wiped her fingers.
“We could take what we don’t finish over there,” Kick offered.
“Relax, please. You don’t have to be a mama all the time.”
“Wait until you’re one.”
Rachel shivered briskly and wiped her forehead. “The guys went their own way when Bella made it clear we didn’t want to do anything more than dance.” She placed her head on Kick’s shoulder. “We came here for a girl’s night.” She leaned around her mother and addressed Thomas. “No offense. It’s cute you hunted her down, actually.”
“It wasn’t hard,” he said. “You told us where y’all were.”
“I did, didn’t I? Yay me.” She beamed and Thomas melted yet again, his memories flashing to another similar young smile. Why did they all seem to fit each other seamlessly? He reminded himself this wasn’t like back then. Times had changed and so had he.
“…tell me you were in love?” Thomas overheard Rachel whispering to her mother.
“What?” The alarm in Kick’s voice set Thomas into action. He wanted no part of their tête-à-tête.
“Excuse me, ladies.” He leaned into Kick, who was studying the dance floor and seemed as eager to get away from Rachel’s misinterpretation. “My turn for the men’s.”
She nodded at Thomas, then grabbed his hand to keep him in place. “Snow, ready to hit the floor again?”
“Sure. This place is so fun. I haven’t danced like this in ages.”
Kick did a double take. “The school bills I pay claim otherwise, you know.” She tipped her chin up to Thomas. “Meet us downstairs when you’re done?”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “It’s a date.”
While he walked away, Rachel told her mother, “This dancing is for me.”
In the men’s room, Thomas bumped into Banger. “Find yourself a bic?” Not long ago, he’d found his friend’s code word for a hookup—a disposable woman—appropriately funny. Most of the women had the same attitude toward them anyway.
Banger adjusted his shirt and rerolled his sleeves while checking himself in the mirror. “You know it.” He sighed. “It’s all about the carburetor, brother.” Thomas waited at the door, knowing Banger itched to say more as he washed his hands. The man could never resist. “Surprised you let your woman out of your sight after practically nailing her on the dance floor.”
“Don’t,” Thomas muttered.
He raised his hands. “Civilized fucking is still fucking. That’s all I’m saying. Speaking of, when are you taking your little show to its natural ending?”
Thomas opened the door. “Later. At my place. Civilized, you know? Besides, you’re the one who suggested we come here.”
Big hands clamped down on Thomas’s shoulders. “If my stud buddy’s given up bics, I should facilitate his own carburetor maintenance when I can.”
Thomas looked at the ceiling, chuckling. “There’s no hope for you, but thanks, man. Where’re you headed?”
“To the bar to wet my other whistle.” Banger smacked his lips. “Seems my throat’s dry. You?”
“Meeting the ladies back on the dance floor. Listen, they reserved the Spyder booth upstairs. No one will mind if you relax there a spell. We left some wings on a platter if the staff hasn’t bused them.”
“Naw, I’m good. I’ll get a drink and find you. Then again, you’ll probably have another audience soon.”
“Don’t worry. No more big scenes tonight.”