Page 94 of After Midnight

Alisha was good for Lucas. She brought him stability when he had none, gave him a soft place to land after the reckless flight that was his life. Now that she’s gone, what’s going to happen to him?

It makes dread curl inside me.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, taking a step toward him across the ring.

But that was obviously the wrong thing to say, because he draws himself up, that flicker of pain gone from his face, replaced by something hard and sharp, about as friendly as shattered glass.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” he says. Then he turns toward me and holds up his hands. “You gonna fight or what?”

BACK IN MY RAPTOR, I wince as I pull the driver’s door closed. Lucas’s E30 roars to life one row of cars down from mine, and I watch as he rips out of the parking lot, window down and smoke already billowing out into the gray sky.

I shake my head and clench my jaw.

When I look down at my hands, I find the knuckles red and chafed despite the hand wraps I was wearing. I don’t come to the gym often enough to have built up a tolerance to it, and the raw skin stings as I flex my fingers.

Then I reach for my phone, which I accidentally left in the cup holder when I went into the gym. I have a text message from Ashton, reminding me of our upcoming gigs, but I ignore it and go straight for my conversation with Remi.

With a heaviness in my chest, I type out a message to her and send it without overthinking it.

I miss you. A lot.

Rain starts to patter against my windshield as I sit there in the parking lot, phone in one hand, my eyes trained on the dark gray sky hanging over LA. Is it cloudy in Vegas right now? Or is it sunny where Remi is, out there in the desert?

The phone pings in my hand, and I look down.

I miss you too. More than a lot.

Her words make me feel better, but just for a moment. Because no matter how many hundreds of text messages I exchange with her, she’s still not here, where I can hold her and smell her and fall asleep next to her.

Lucas’s words echo in my mind: If you know what you want, don’t be a dumbass about it.

And I know what I want. I want her. Fully and completely. In all the ways someone can want someone else.

But I don’t know yet if I’m being a dumbass. And I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of it.

chapter 43

Remi

IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT, AND I’M back in the club, wearing a skimpy blue lingerie set that matches my eyes. My stilettos twinkle as I dance on the main stage, the glittering silver sequins catching the lights swirling overhead. It’s been a good night so far, with a lively crowd and good tips. But something feels . . . off.

James isn’t here. For the first time since he started coming to the club almost a year ago, he isn’t sitting in the VIP booth, gin in hand, waiting for our regular private dance.

“Bunny,” I call out to one of the other dancers after I’ve finished my stage time and am back on the main floor. She pauses on her way to the backstage area, tipping her head at me in question. “Was my regular here last weekend?”

Her brown eyes narrow in thought. “The one who always sits in the back booth? Gin guy?”

I nod. “Yeah, him.”

“Mm . . . I don’t think so. If he’d been here, I would’ve tried to get a private dance with him—since you weren’t here and all.” She gives me a small smile. “But I didn’t see him.”

That’s . . . not what I expected. My trip to Cali was somewhat sudden, and I didn’t even know I’d be going, so during that last dance with James, I didn’t tell him I would be gone the following week.

So, why didn’t he show up? The question nags at me, making my insides squirm.

“I’ll let you know if I see him,” Bunny says, starting to ease toward the employee-only door.

I nod once, giving her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”