Eye Candy

by Tijan

  She was still standing. We all were, but I was starting to waver. I glanced over, and, yep. Taylor was holding on to the wall. Grace was holding on to Courtney, and Courtney was gritting her teeth, focusing on the spot behind me.

  It was time to dance. We needed to start sobering up, just a little.

  * * *

  Here we were. We walked into that nightclub like we owned it. The bouncers opened the door, and we strode right past them. The wind kicked up and it was like a fan blowing for us, like we were walking on a runway. The angel, the dark hooker, the bearded lady, the sexy fish, and the teacher. All eyes were on us—and then Grace tripped and fell.

  “Oomph!”

  “Oh my gosh.” Courtney stopped to help her up. She tried. Her heel slipped, and she landed right next to Grace, her elbow decking her in the face. “AH!”

  I wasn’t even trying to help. No way. Tequila and my heels: not a good mix, I’d learned, thanks to Courtney.

  Heather and Taylor turned around. They were skilled at slinky Halloween costumes with heels. Both of them got the girls up, and no one flashed anybody.

  “Are your friends okay?”

  A guy materialized beside me, dressed as Batman. He was asking about them, but his eyes were roaming all over me. He licked his lips. “Want a drink?”

  Before I could reply, Heather was there. She positioned herself so her back was to him and, in one smooth move, edged him out so he wasn’t even able to see me anymore. She remarked coolly over her shoulder, “Turn the heat down. This is Kade’s woman.”

  “What?” He craned his neck around, his eyes narrowing at me, and that’s when I saw the fear creep in. “Shit.” He ran a hand over his head. “You’re Samantha Strattan.” And, as if the whole thing was a nightmare that wouldn’t go away, he ignored Heather’s body language and came right back into the circle. He stuck his hand out. “I’m Steve. Man. That pass Mason caught tonight.” He whistled in appreciation. “It was fucking fantastic. My mouth was on the floor. I didn’t think he could do it. All my buddies were like this.” He pantomimed screaming, and shook his arms in the air. “Seriously. One of the best plays I’ve ever seen. That shit’s going to be replayed on ESPN for weeks.”

  Heather fixed him with a glare. “Dude. Really?”

  “What?” He blinked a few times in confusion.

  “You just hit on her, now you’re hitting on her man?”

  He frowned. “I’m not hit—” He thought better of that, shaking his head. “Whatever. You don’t understand. It’s football. I’m a man. Mason Kade is legendary.”

  “Mason Kade tends to go nuts when it comes to his woman.”

  I tugged at the leather strap on my shoulder. That was kind of a sensitive topic. Last year we’d hit a rough bump. We got over it, but it still made me grimace to hear it. I coughed, linked my elbow with Heather’s, and flashed the guy a smile. “I’ll pass on your comments to Mason. Thank you.” I tugged my bodyguard with me. “But we need drinks.”

  His eyes lit up. “I can get you drinks.” And he was raising his hand, calling for a waitress.

  “No, no.” I tugged his arm down, still trying to be polite, but I could feel Heather bristling for a fight behind me. “Thank you. Again. We’re good. Independent women and all. We can get our own drinks.”

  I began pushing Heather forward.

  The guy reached out behind me. “Are you sure? I can give you my Twitter handle. Better yet”—his voice rose as he yelled to be heard over the club’s music—“I’ll tweet at Mason. I’ll let him know I’m watching out for his girl, making sure no one messes with you tonight.”

  Mason would hate that.

  My smile froze in place, but I waved one last time. “Sounds good. Thank you. I’m sure he’ll retweet you.” I muttered under my breath, “And then he’ll want to block you in person.”

  Taylor was waving from the bar. Courtney and Grace were beside her, huddled together like they were warding off a chill. I stepped around another group in costume and heard one of them say, “Hey. Isn’t that Mason Kade’s girlfriend?”

  An excited buzz rose, and I cringed. Ignoring them, I pulled Heather with me into a small opening by Taylor and moved quickly to the bar’s edge.

  Taylor had overheard. “Do you want to leave?”

  No, but . . . I glanced over my shoulder. That whole group was staring right at me. I looked past them and saw Steve talking with another group and pointing toward me. The tequila was starting to wane in my system.

  I let out a sigh. “We probably should.”

  Mason’s celebrity status was always big. I was used to it in high school—he and Logan ran their school—but he became more famous when he started playing for Cain University, and even more so when he decided to finish his degree. Teams had been anxious to sign him, but no one knew how he’d actually play once he got into the NFL. That uncertainty disappeared after the first game he started. He’d run in three touchdowns, and had continued to dominate most games since.

  His status was ridiculous now. I tried to ignore it, keeping my head down and doing my thing, but some nights—like tonight—I couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to deal with it. It was just that . . . it was . . . he was my Mason, not theirs. The small modicum of privacy and normalcy we’d had before was gone now.

  “I’m on it.” Taylor waved the bartender away when he brought over a bunch of drinks. “We’re leaving.”

  “No.” Courtney pulled out some cash and tossed it on the counter. “He already poured them. Let’s drink these quick, then have Jason take us somewhere else.”

  A new plan was hatched.

  We downed our drinks and left, and were waiting on the curb for Taylor’s friend Jason to come back. He’d opted not to join us inside, but he was coming back. She checked her phone after ten minutes, then sent off a text asking if he was close. A couple minutes passed without a response.

  She looked at me. “He always responds. His phone is hooked up to his car.” She texted him again.

  There’d been a line outside already, but after we came out, more and more people followed us. A few who wanted to smoke, then their friends, then their friends. I heard the conversations pick up, and glanced over my shoulder.

  Yep. Good ol’ Steve was out there too, pretending to smoke. His eyes were on me, and when he saw me look, he lifted his hand in a wave. “Hey! You guys taking off?”

  A growl erupted from Heather. She rounded on him. “For fuck’s sake.”

  “Wai—” Too late. I reached for her, but she was already marching over to him.

  Everyone tensed. Heather was formidable, even when she was laid-back and easy-breezy. She usually had a drawl ready, matched with a sultry and sexy grin. Nothing really ruffled her feathers. This Heather wasn’t normal, and even I gulped to see her walk over to him. I felt like I’d gotten a glimpse of a black widow moving in for the kill.

  Courtney’s hand touched my arm. I looked over—her eyes were glued to Heather’s back, and she gulped too. She was pale.

  Grace’s hands were clasped in front of her, pulled up to her chest. Her eyes were wide. She bit down on her lip.

  I didn’t look at Taylor. I already knew she was worried.

  “Hey!” Heather snapped at him.

  He had been watching me, but jerked his gaze to her. His spine straightened and his shoulders rolled back. His group of friends parted for her and she strolled in, stopping right in front of him. Her hands found her hips and she struck a defiant pose. “What is your problem?”

  “Wh—huh?”

  “You think she wants to deal with you?”

  He seemed to actually think about it.

  “You think she enjoys when meatheads like you hit on her, then find out who her boyfriend is, and turn into clingy stalker fans? And I heard that shit you said to her. You’re going to tweet at her boyfriend and let him know you’re watching out for her? Are you kidding me? Mason Kade might be a football god to you, but get a reality check. He’s
a lethal machine, who turned his body into a weapon to bulldoze past running backs, linemen, and bigger assholes on the football field than you. Imagine facing him and telling him that you’re watching the woman he loves, and really think how that might go over.”

  As she talked, his eyes got bigger and bigger. His face was close to Heather’s by the time she finished. He looked like a ghost.

  Heather wasn’t done, though. “It’s obvious that we’re leaving, and here you are.” She waved a hand around. “Coming out here too. Following her, like that clingy stalker fan you became. Then you wave to her? Like you’re friends? Fucking get over yourself.”

  Taylor leaned close to me. “She’s a female Logan.” She readjusted her dress. “I think I’m a little turned on. Is that wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Share the story with Logan. He’ll love it.”

  Our ride pulled up in front of us. Jason leaned over from the driver’s side to open the passenger door and shove it ajar. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting your text so soon. Too much fun, huh?”

  “Thank God,” Taylor groaned and climbed in.

  Courtney opened the back door and started to climb into the back seat. Grace hurried around to the other side. I reached for the door, but looked over my shoulder. Heather was still in Steve-O’s face, her cigarette lit and waving in the air.

  Jason looked over Taylor’s seat to me. “Looks like you have a situation. Want me to play interference?”

  Did he have to use a football metaphor? But I nodded. Jason was quick-witted and snarky. He could diffuse the situation in half the time it would take me. And in a flash, he did. He wasn’t a big guy. He was five ten and lean, and he was out his door and around the SUV in his pink polo, the collar turned out with gold on the inside, and white jeans that were molded to his skinny frame. Steve didn’t even see him coming.

  Jason was there. He dipped down, put an arm through Heather’s legs, tucked his shoulders against her back, and looped his other arm around her waist. He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder, and winked at the guys. “Have a nice night, folks. Only drink and drive if you’re the only one on the street.”

  He carried Heather to the vehicle and deposited her in the seat next to mine. The door was shut. He was in his driver’s seat before Heather comprehended what happened. Then she started laughing. Taylor cracked a grin. Courtney and Grace dissolved into the same giggles they’d had at the house, and I—I met Jason’s gaze in the rearview mirror as he started to pull away from the curb. “Thanks for that.”

  He grinned back. “No problem.”

  We were moving past the crowd. Everyone was happy, even Heather, and I started to relax.

  Then I looked to the right.

  Standing there, facing us, was someone dressed from head to toe in a black robe. The face was gone. A white mask stared back at me, one that reminded me of the movie Scream.

  There was no reason for my reaction, but my stomach dipped low.

  A sick shiver wound down my spine.

  That person was evil.

  I knew it. I could feel it, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

  I also knew, without a doubt, that we’d see that person again.

  My blood went cold.

  Chapter 5

  Jason took us to Pete’s Pub, where Taylor used to work. She’d put in a good word for Nate, and we’d visited him throughout the past year, enough to know the regulars on a first-name basis. When we walked in, I was already starting to relax. I knew I wasn’t going in there as Mason Kade’s girlfriend. I was Sam to them.

  Some of the staff and a few of the regulars waved to us, but I knew that when we took our booth in the corner, we’d be left alone. If we chose to be social, it was our decision. The bouncers would keep an extra eye out. They always did when Taylor was here, anyways.

  The tequila, mixed with the Long Island iced tea, kept my body warm and floaty. The alcohol’s effect had waned a little at the previous place, but my last drink was slamming into my body again. I was gone. I was in the clouds now.

  Dark hooker: airborne.

  The world looked all nice and cozy from my point of view.

  I smiled, knowing it was droopy and messy, but I didn’t care. I leaned into Heather’s shoulder. “I love you, you know that.”

  The corner of her mouth curved down. “I went batshit at that guy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “You have a man problem!” Courtney yelled from the other side of our booth. Her hand lifted and plopped on the table. A bowl of peanuts upended and rolled over, falling into her lap. She had no clue. “You’re hurting, and you’re drunk, and that’s never a good recipe.”

  Heather grunted. “Works just fine for me.”

  “No. I know.” She held her hand out in front of her, but paused. “I don’t know what I was saying.”

  Taylor grabbed one of the peanuts on the table, opened it, and popped the shelled nut in her mouth. She said around it, “Man problems. Drinking.”

  “Yes.” Courtney was off again. “You should talk about what happened. That might help all of us understand.” She gestured around the table. “It’d be good therapy too. We’ve all been there.” She burped and continued blinking, giving Heather an expectant look.

  “The love of my life dumped me because his sister was arrested.”

  Courtney screwed her face up; the blank look came back. “I’ve lost the ability to compute that. Your fiancé was arrested?”

  Grace snorted. Her shoulders started shaking with soft laughter.

  Taylor frowned at Courtney.

  Heather didn’t react at all, merely drawling back, “His sister was arrested. And he’s not my fiancé.”

  “Got it.” Courtney slapped her hand back down. “You were arrested and his sister took back the ring.”

  Heather was reaching for a peanut, but paused. “No. What are you talking about—rings, and fiancés, and shit? No one’s engaged here.”

  “Wait.” Courtney’s hand was back in the air. “Your sister was arrested and he dumped you because of that.” She frowned to herself, pulling her hand back to her lap. “Oh man. Is he in love with your sister?”

  “Unless my brother’s had a sex change, and his sexual orientation switched too, then that’s not even possible.”

  Courtney sucked in one of her cheeks, chewing on the inside of it. “I think I’m drunk.”

  Taylor spit out her drink, or the little sip she’d taken. It landed on the table . . . at least I thought it did. I was looking for it as she said, “That’s the first logical thing you’ve said since we got here.”

  I was mesmerized by the glass in Taylor’s hand, then saw we all had one in front of us. When had we gotten drinks here? I pointed at mine. “Who ordered these?”

  “No.” Heather propped her elbows on the table, leaning forward. “My problem is that my ex is amazing at fucking—”

  Grace hiccuped. “Is that actually a problem?”

  Heather kept going. “He’s got a body like, like fucking Brad Pitt in Fight Club, and a face that could be a model’s. I mean, he’s gorgeous. He’s beyond gorgeous, and he’s a stand-up guy. The problem is that he’s too stand-up. He’s a bad boy and he can be a dick, so he’s not boring or anything, but he’s raising his sister, and she’s not making his life easy right now. She got arrested for some really bad shit, and he thinks he needs to devote more time to her.” She hiccupped too, jerking back in her seat. Then she went on, as if no hiccup had happened. “And that’s my problem. He broke up with me and the reason makes me want him even more.”

  “It makes you love him more?”

  Heather shook her head at Taylor. “No. My love meter is all the way over. It can’t go any further. But damn, I want to fuck him, like right now.” She let out a sigh.

  “No, really”—I pointed at my drink—“who ordered these?”

  Courtney bobbed her head up and down. “That is a problem. Wow. I wish I could find a guy like that. All you bitches,” her fing
er waved at us again, “got all of them. I hate you guys sometimes.”

  Grace melted into the wall. Her eyes were closing and drool fell from her mouth.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned all the way back in my seat. “I’m not drinking this until I know where they came from.”

  Taylor grabbed my drink and took a sip, then put it back as she spoke to Heather. “You should call him. Right now.” She waved a hand at the glass, saying to me, “It’s fine. I’m not dead.”

  Nope. I was waiting a full five minutes. She could die. People ended up roofied like this.

  “I can’t call him. I’m drunk as fuck right now.”

  “No.” Courtney’s hand was once again in the air. “This is the best time to call. You’ll be honest now. And he can say things to you that maybe he normally wouldn’t if you were sober. You know, the walls aren’t up now.”

  I couldn’t handle it anymore. I smacked Courtney’s hand down. “Stop it. That’s making me paranoid.”

  Taylor choked on her drink again.

  I held my breath. I was right! We were drugged. Were the drugs already kicking in?!

  She sputtered out, her head going back and forth, “Courtney’s not making you paranoid. The tequila is.”

  “Tequila usually makes me want to get naked,” Grace announced to us.

  We all paused. Our heads swiveled to her, and then she let out a deep yawn and rested back against the wall.

  Heather gestured to her. “She’s out for the night.” She picked up her drink and motioned to me. “I don’t think we’re going to party like rock stars tonight.”

  I shrugged. “As long as you’re okay, I don’t care.”

  “Aww.” Courtney stuck out her bottom lip. “You guys are so sweet together. I remember when I first met you, Heather. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Yeah.” Taylor was nodding. “You and I didn’t hit it off either.”

  Heather lifted up a shoulder. “That’s how I am. You either like me right away or you don’t. You get what you see with me.”

  I scowled. For some reason, Courtney’s last statement pissed me off. I wasn’t sure why.