Ana was particularly excited as the featured band for the night was Phantom Universe an LA based indie band she had followed for years.
Newt’s was only three blocks from Winsor Hall. Although it was a tiny venue, it was one of the most respected music clubs in the country.
It shined a light on indie bands, but had also hosted big names like The Stones, and even Dylan and Bowie.
The line for tonight went around the block.
As was starting to become our ritual, we had pre-gamed with margaritas and shots.
We pass the bouncer and file into a smaller foyer before entering the main space.
It’s already crowded. We have to wait for people to move past the bar.
“Ugh, I am SO excited!” Ana jumps up and down a couple of times. “The last time I saw these guys was last summer, they played a club off of Sunset. Man, it’s hard not to miss LA sometimes.”
She closes her eyes and tilts her face upwards. Jas called this her Cali-face.
We imagined she was tilting her face towards the sky to remember the warm California sun or maybe feel that beach breeze.
Even though I was also from California, I didn’t miss Silicon Valley enough to possess such a look.
“How’d you even hear about them?” Kim asks.
She had missed the whole story about her brother’s best friend’s cousin being the band’s first drummer. Ana repeated the complicated connection with enthusiasm.
“He left the band after a couple of years, though. They’ve had the current drummer, Brian, for the last three,” she finishes.
The crowd in front of us clears and we enter the main space.
A sign to our right says the capacity is 700.
The walls are black, the bar and floors worn in. The place is pure, no-frills, real music.
The area around the bar is dark.
We continue moving towards the floor and the stage where the blue and green lights travel with the crowd.
It’s loud, the base makes my heart pump faster.
The opening band had already started their set. They’re covering The Pixies’ “Where is My Mind.”
The slower, pulsating rhythm of the song makes people sway rather than dance.
We find a space near the stage. The song drowns everything else out.
The lights reflect off of us brilliantly. Jas had insisted we all wear sparkly dresses.
I’m in a short sheath dress, black with silver sequins. I look down as the blues and greens reflect off the silver.
Ana is wearing a shiny red dress. Kim a light blue dress with sequins that set off her red hair. And Jas is in an all silver mini, the lights shine the brightest off of her, which seems fitting.
The lights, the music, the sequins, the alcohol—all converge to create another dream-like night.
Ana puts her arms around mine and Jas’ shoulders. She moves us this way and that. We sway dreamily for the remainder of the song.
The lead singer talks into the mic. “And now for some Duran Duran. I hope you guys aren’t too young to remember Ordinary World, and if you are, we’re sure you’ll like it anyway.”
He lets his long brown hair fall into his eyes, moving away from the mic as he strikes a chord on his guitar in sync with the drummer.
The song begins.
It’s slow, with some drums and then a simple guitar melody that feels new and familiar at the same time.
A lot of people begin singing with the band from the first lyric. The melancholy rhythms bring me through childhood memories, and somehow propel me into adulthood now.
When the song hits the chorus, practically everyone sings together. Some people lift their cell phones in the air like lighters.
We move, we sing, we feel.
I can’t remember the last time I had heard a live band like this, even these slower tempo songs had a way of getting into your blood.
It’s invigorating. I feel…alive from the inside out.
The song finishes and the same jean and t-shirt clad lead takes the mic as the audience cheers enthusiastically.
“Thank you, thank you. We thought so.” He turns to laugh with the two other guitarists behind him.
And then to the crowd, “But now we’re going to take you back even further. Here’s There is A Light That Never Goes Out from The Smiths. Just want to keep your education going.”
He looks at the lead guitarist in black skinny jeans and a black shirt next to him. “We’ve got to supplement what they are learning at this fine, uppity Ivy, don’t we Sam?” His band mate nods.
“Ladies and gents, The Smiths... A one, two, three…”
The beat is faster than the two previous songs. People begin dancing instantly.
The rhythm allows for a more chill-type bopping, not quite mosh pit material, but definitely a fun beat.
The song is infectious. I’d never heard it, but it’s one of those songs you wish you knew the lyrics to because the lyrics embodied something you understood well, or maybe were just starting to understand.
It is instantly nostalgic.
I look around at the faces of my suite, they are beautiful and vibrant.
Kim’s red hair flashes with the lights. Ana’ curls are shaking wildly. Jas has her hands in her hair as she loses herself in the music.
I look beyond them. There is a guy from my English class totally spazzing out to the rhythm. He alternates between flailing his arms overhead and jumping up and down.
It’s funny and kind of awesome, he doesn’t appear to be drunk, just really into the music.
The floor is nearly at capacity. I look around to see if I register any other faces.
There is another person from my English class. Wow. I think she is literally wearing a shirt as a dress.
No, no judgment. Wait…possible judgment as she jumps and flashed everyone around her.
No, no judgment I force the mantra.
I could have more than flashed someone if they had walked in on me in the stacks…
The song finishes.
“Hope you guys liked that. You’ve got to expand those minds people!” The lead singer brings his fingers to his temples and then makes a motion to signal expansion.
“Look beyond the weekly Top 40. Delve into history, you never know what you might find,” he pleads.
“That’ll do it for us, we are LiveHistory, stay tuned for Phantom Universe! But first a few dance tunes…be warned we didn’t say they would all be club beats.”
What a strange warning.
The speakers in Newt’s come to life.
The opening lyrics of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” fill our ears.
People respond instantly. Including us.
Ana, Kim, Jas, and I close in to create a small circle near the stage.
We sing every word in an exaggerated way while showing off our best dance moves, or at least our best very tipsy dance moves.
We’re mostly jumping up and down.
We stop moving to catch our breath at the bridge…and then throw our heads back and howl with the best of them.
CHAPTER 21 Billionaire Secret: Dirty Dancing Confessions
The next song is a dance remix of Imagine Dragons’ “Demons.”
The remix is much faster than the original and gives it a hip hop edge.
I look around. People are dancing in their own awesomely weird ways.
Some are jumping, others grinding, some pull out impressive hip hop moves that I’m trying to wrap my head around.
A couple to my left are really good. The liquid courage has given me the ability to mimic the girl, albeit poorly.
She’s doing things with her torso I can’t begin to understand, but I’m tipsy enough to try.
I’m in the middle of embarrassing myself with the next torso-roll-type move when I feel a pair of male hands on my upper thighs.
Ugh. Creep.
I grab one hand and twist the man’s
wrist as hard as I can.
This ought to send a message.
“Aahhh!”
I turn to find myself face to face with Damon.
He’s shaking his hand out and holding his wrist.
I was going to apologize, but there was something about the look on his face: injured and affronted.
I burst out laughing. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the situation, maybe it’s his promise to stay away from me.
He looks confused by my outburst and then finally cracks a smile.
I look at him once my fit subsides. His lighthearted smile turns dark in an instant. Carnal.
I stop smiling.
He doesn’t say anything, but the look he’s giving me leaves me breathless.
He grabs me possessively around the waist. Our hips connect and then he begins to move.
He circles his hips in time to the hip hop beat, taking me with him.
It isn’t grinding, it’s more…Dirty Dancing.
Our connection in that moment is different. The sexual attraction is there, but there is something else that I can’t grasp.
He’s letting me into somewhere I’ve never seen before and at the same time there’s a shield I’d never noticed.
The song continues around us. He’s looking down at me so intently.
I can’t read what is behind those blue eyes.
I hold his gaze, I meet his rhythm.
A piano breaks through the “Demons” remix. The change in tempo is severe.
It is a slow song. Around us, there are a few groans. The trance we had created fractures.
We watch as most of the dancers leave the floor.
He releases me awkwardly.
Neither of us knows what to do. I glance at the few remaining couples embracing for a slow dance.
This is what the LiveHistory singer had meant. I steal a glance at Damon.
He’s biting his lip. Unsure.
It’s a new look for him.
A slow dance is romantic, intimate. I’m not sure I want to go there and he looks…odd.
I make to walk off the floor and join my friends who had cleared out half way through “Demons.”
He catches my arm and pulls me back. Wrapping both arms around my waist, he brings me into him.
There is nothing to do but wrap my arms around his shoulders.
We sway.
It’s like a sustained hug to music. All the hard lines of his body seem to soften to accommodate me.
The lyrics of the song are intense, romantic, and a little sad. Rihanna’s “Stay.”
Something drops in my stomach.
It isn’t that sexual arousal I had come to know in Damon’s presence.
It’s like the first day of school or getting on a plane by yourself.
With one hand he gently moves my head into the crook of his shoulder. A second later I feel his head leaning into mine.
The lyrics continue, they are confusing. The song echoes my thoughts.
We aren’t moving very much at all, but suddenly I’m dizzy. This is starting to feel too much like the end of a Twilight movie.
I need to keep my head on. Say something Elle.
“Didn’t you promise to stay away from me?”
Damn that definitely sounded like the end of a Twilight film.
“I tried. You were dancing…I just wanted to be near you,” he sounds so earnest, heartfelt even.
“Have you been drinking?” I tease to lighten the mood.
“A bit, but it doesn’t make it any less true,” he answers, still serious.
“Did you figure out what you needed to figure out?” he asks, hopeful.
I had thought about it, obviously.
But I wasn’t sure he still wanted to be figured in to the equation.
All I know is that I hadn’t liked not hearing from him.
There was no Earth-shattering epiphany. There was only my attraction for two men, my inexperience in such things, and the truth I held onto most of all: I wanted to let go, but I refused to fall.
There was only one logical conclusion.
The song finishes and I break our embrace.
“I need some air,” I say.
“Sure, let’s go up to the roof.” He takes my hand and leads me off the floor, down a narrow hall I hadn’t noticed and up a flight of stairs.
We are on the balcony. Another hidden hallway and two flights of stairs later we emerge onto the roof.
The cool air caresses my face.
I take a deep breath.
The rooftop provides an excellent view of the campus. The Gothic arches of Litz tower are perfectly lit on one side, the House of Hurte similarly lit on the other.
The Stacks are across the street.
Above us a few stars can be seen through the moving orange clouds that reflect the city lights and pollution.
We are alone.
I walk to one of the walled edges and look down at the streets below. He joins me.
I’m nervous to say what I have to say.
It’s funny how honest conversations are still difficult with someone who has seen you naked.
I wonder if people really ever saw each other naked, truly as they are.
“I’m sensing your anxiety,” he sounds equally nervous, which was new.
Where do I begin?
With West, obviously.
Just say it!
“You know when you first took me to The Society and you said that you thought I responded to seeing West with that blonde?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I did respond and he responded to my watching him,” I say delicately.
“Of course he did, voyeurism is one of the sexual predilections that bring members of The Society together in the first place.”
One of them? I put that question in the vault for later.
My voice is low, “He said that the second he saw me watching him, he wanted to be inside of me.”
I can’t look at him.
“Said? He told you this? When?” There is a hint of alarm in his voice.
Uh-oh, we had both made a point of not being exclusive, why did he sound like that?
I should just say it all, quickly and let the chips fall where they may.
“Well he first approached me at the art gallery the same day as the last Society meeting. We talked about the nudes and Degas and…pleasure.”
I breathe in and try to see Damon from the corner of my eye.
He’s waiting. Tension is radiating off of him.
I say the next part in a rush, to get it out, “Then when you left me blindfolded in the foyer, someone I assumed was you, led me into the closet under the staircase. I made out with that someone and then realized he felt different. The light came on, the blindfold off and it was West.”
I don’t think he needs to know that I continued the make out session even after I knew it wasn’t him.
A fraction of the anxiety I had been feeling dissipates. And then I remember that there’s more.
I clasp my hands together nervously, “Then the following Monday after class we sort of made out again, only we also used…hands and that’s when he told me about wanting me. He said that The Society is all about pleasure and that I shouldn’t worry about being attracted to you both. I told him that it was still something I would have to wrap my brain around.”
There.
It all spilled out.
I stare faithfully at my hands.
He’s still waiting on me. “And did you? Wrap your head around it?”
“Well, if we both don’t want to be exclusive and everything you’ve exposed me to at The Society is about pleasure, then we should all theoretically be OK with my seeking pleasure with both of you…right?” I look up at him, finally.
He’s searching my face again.
His eyes draw together, his jaw is still full of tension, “So you weren’t about to tell
me that you can’t wrap your head around The Society and being with me this way?”
I shake my head slowly.
So is he OK with it all?
Does he agree with my conclusion?
Does he want out?
Not that there was anything to get out of…
His face doesn’t change, his voice is soft, surprised, “You still want to see me, even with everything I’ve shown you?”
I nod.
“So you aren’t scared?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “You keep running out…I thought I pushed you too far, too quickly. So this was about West?”
His jaw relaxes a degree.
“Yes, the first time I ran out really was about a collision of worlds. The second time, I couldn’t digest what had happened in the closet with West because I was there with you. I just needed to get some perspective on the situation. I wasn’t scared,” I assure him.
Without warning he leans down and kisses me. Hard.
I break away.
“Wait, so you’re OK with it all? You’re saying I should go and fuck him?” My voice rises at the end.
Did I want him to be OK with it?
Yes, yes I did because anything else would be too much like an exclusive relationship…and then would come love.
And I refuse to fall.
“I’m saying,” he picks me up so I am straddling him, “that you should fuck me. Right. Now.”
He carries me a few feet to a small alcove next to the door where he sets me down on a ledge a couple of feet from the top of the wall.
We are at eye level.
He takes my face in his hands.
The city lights behind me reflect off of his silver-blue eyes.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” He leans down to kiss me softly.
It is in such contrast to his previous kiss that it gives me butterflies.
Am I nervous because we are on a rooftop, semi-exposed?
Or because his tender side makes me feel exposed?
“I couldn’t stop thinking about your lips.” He moves his thumb across my lower lip and pulls it down. He kisses me again.
His voice is low, strangled, “I was about to break my promise to stay away. In fact, I was about to leave this place to go find you when I spotted you across the floor. Always dancing. Always tempting me with that body.”
Ignited & Unhinged (Billionaire Secret, Book One)(Billionaire Romance, New Adult Romance, College Romance) Page 13