A Mad Zombie Party - Showalter Gena - Страница 24
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“How kind of you.”
He turns away, but it doesn’t matter. For the rest of the drive, I feel like I’m floating on clouds.
We park in back of the club, and though the lot is jam-packed with cars of all shapes, sizes and colors, Cole has no problem finding a place. One of the spots in front is empty, safeguarded by a sign that reads “Reserved for Holland.”
I’m trembling with excitement as I emerge. No matter what, I’m having fun tonight. The decision has been made.
The moon looks like an upside-down smile. There are no clouds but countless stars sparkling like diamonds on a bed of black velvet. The air smells of exhaust, cologne and sweat, and even though it’s unpleasant, it beats the odor of rot.
As I trail behind Frosty, I guard his six, my gaze constantly scanning for trouble. To the right, a couple is making out hardcore against a Porsche. To the left, a girl is shoving her drunken friend into the backseat of a beige sedan.
Two beefy security guards block the front doors, but they allow us to enter despite boos and hisses rising from the mile-long line. We’re even allowed upstairs in the VIP lounge, where the music isn’t so loud and we have an unobstructed view of the dance floor.
A hostess—young and pretty with dark hair and gorgeous skin the color of burnished copper—rushes over. “Welcome back, Mr. Holland.”
Cole is all business. “Is my usual table available?”
“No, sir. We didn’t know you were coming and—”
“Make it available,” he says.
“Yes, yes, of course.” She rushes off and returns a few minutes later to lead us to an empty booth in the far right corner, hidden from the rest of the club by black-as-night drapes.
Ali slides in, Cole right behind her. Gavin goes in at the opposite side, leaving Frosty and me standing there like idiots. I’m about to take the seat next to Gavin when another girl races over to give Frosty a hug and kiss on the cheek and if that’s not enough, she clings to his arm.
“Logan! It’s been weeks. I’ve missed you so much.”
Logan—oh, yeah, his he-slut hall-of-shame name.
Frosty sits beside Cole, forcing the girl to release him. He pulls at his collar, clearly uncomfortable and probably flipping through mental files and coming up blank. The poor girl doesn’t get the hint and asks him a thousand questions about his life. As if she has every right to know.
Gavin tries not to laugh. Cole doesn’t notice, he’s too busy cuddling Ali.
Frosty’s gaze meets mine and I swear he’s begging for help.
I finally claim a seat—the one right next to him. There’s not really room for me, but whatever. I drape my arm around his shoulders and he leans into me. “My sweet Frosty has forgotten his manners, hasn’t he? I’m Milla and you’re...?”
“Patricia.” The girl pales. “You’re his girlfriend?”
“Well, you tell me. I’ve been living with this delicious slice of beefcake for three magical weeks, spending every waking moment with him.” I shake a hand at the ceiling. “I try my hardest to keep my hands to myself, but...my little pookie bear needs me. Isn’t that right, lollipop?”
“That’s right, sugar tush.”
Sugar tush? Well, I’ve been called worse.
The girl stammers out an apology and at last leaves.
“Thanks,” Frosty mutters.
I release him and say, “Bang and bail protection is just one of the many services I offer.”
Our waiter arrives to take our drink orders. He’s a good-looking guy with a leanly muscled frame. His hair is purple and there are three silver piercings in his brow.
If I’m not mistaken, he gives me an extrasweet smile when I request two shots of Grey Goose. Forget Cole’s no drinking rule. This is my one night off; I’m blowing my budget—well, Gavin’s budget—and partying like a rock star.
“You follow instructions so well.” Ali frowns at me. “I’ll have a ginger ale.”
The others order the same. Their loss.
Waiter McCutie winks at me before rushing off. I’m not asked for ID or payment, which is a first. And I don’t have to wait while he serves other, nicer—wealthier-looking— customers. He returns a few minutes later and distributes the drinks. I’ve never been a top priority before.
“Thank you,” Frosty says, stealing one of my shots. He drains it before I can work up a good protest. “Didn’t think I’d ever have another one of those, but what the hell.”
“Cheers.” I drain my own. The liquid burns going down, but quickly settles in my stomach like warm honey.
“Can I get you anything else?” Waiter McCutie asks.
“Another round,” I say. “And keep ’em coming.”
Again, he isn’t gone long.
Frosty steals a second shot. This time we clink our glasses before the liquid goes down the hatch.
Ali shakes her head in protest. “You guys suck.”
“If Zs are found,” I say, “and you’re drunk as a skunk, so what? The monsters will be happy when they die.”
Her frown returns. “One, we don’t kill them if we can save them, and two, I never drink.”
Cole gives her shoulders a squeeze, and it’s clear he knows something about her I don’t.
“What about you?” I ask him.
“I’m driving,” he says. “A task I take seriously.”
I admire their sense of responsibility, even as I pick up two new glasses. “More for me. Bottoms up.”
“Hold on a sec.” Gavin swipes one from my hand and drains the contents. “You convinced me.”
Ali slaps his shoulder.
“What? She gives good argument.”
“You are such a traitor,” she grumbles.
“A smart traitor. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a good buzz?” He eyes each of us. “Two days.”
“A torturous eternity,” Frosty says drily.
I toss back my shot, then another and another. By the time I’ve emptied the last one, the burn is completely gone, my head swimming. I hate feeling out of control almost as much as I love feeling uninhibited and carefree.
I turn to signal Waiter McCutie...and find he’s already back and crouching beside me, watching me with a grin. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” I say back.
“Came to see if you needed anything else.”
“More Grey Goose, please.”
“My pleasure.” But he doesn’t take off just yet. “This your first time at Hearts?”
“Nope.” Not only had I come here looking for Frosty the night after Kat first appeared to me, but I’d also come here thanks to Anima—to pretend to fight and at last hand over Ali. The night my secret came to light and my brother disowned me. “But I’m kinda glad you missed my debut.”
“Why?” His grin grows wider. “Did you trip and fall?”
“Hardly.” I burp discreetly into my hand. “I’m so graceful and ladylike it’s scary.”
McCutie laughs out loud. “Did you drink too much and projectile-vomit on your boss’s Italian loafers?”
“Please. That kind of thing only happens in books and movies.”
“Honey, it happened an hour ago. And last night. And the night before.”
An endearment. One he probably uses on every girl he encounters, but I don’t care. I’ve found a person who doesn’t hate me, or suspect me of wrongdoing, and I gobble it up.
I crave more.
“You’re cute,” I tell him.
“Thank you.” His grin returns as he twines his fingers with mine. “I’m Jason, by the way.”
“You’re about to be dead.” Frosty grabs Jason by the wrist and must apply enough pressure to hurt because Jason flinches and jerks back. “She’s off-limits.”
My anger is so sharp it feels like glass shards are riding a tide of acid inside my veins. “What, I’m your bodyguard, so I can’t have a special friend?”
Ali jumps in. “No. You can’t.”
“Do yourself a favor and keep your opinions to yourself,” I tell her.
Jason gapes at me. “You’re the big guy’s bodyguard?”
“Leave,” Frosty tells him. “Now.”
He scurries off.
“Rude,” I say.
“No more so than you.” Frosty leans toward me. “You owe me, remember. More than that, you agreed to do a job, so stop screwing around and actually do it.”
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