Maybe Baby (22 page)

I could tell Gina was proud of what she and Ian had done with the club. They were young and they had really put it all on the line. She continued talking about Ian and how his younger brother Piers was in from San Diego. She said that she really wanted me to him because she was certain that he and I would hit it off. I listened to her go on about Piers and suddenly there was quiet.

“Stop it,” Gina said abruptly.

I was totally caught off guard. “Stop what?”

“You know damn well what," she said accusingly. “You've got to stop thinking about Trey or it'll ruin your night.”

“Who said anything about Trey? I wasn’t thinking about him at all,” I lied.

“The fuck you weren’t,” she snapped. “You need to let it go. Forget about him. He hasn’t called you all week, and he's totally blown off your birthday. I don’t get it, is the sex that good?”

“Look,” I replied, “things are more complicated than that.”

“What’s so complicated about it? He’s a fucking control freak who wants to pin you to his wall like some butterfly that he’s caught in his net. Does he ever tell you how he feels? Does he ever give you a clue as to where he sees your relationship going?”

I sighed and remained silent.

“He doesn’t even ask you to come to Atlanta with him, does he?”

I gave her a look of warning; she needed to back off a little. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about him anyway,” I replied. “Trey has never once told me that he loves me, so really it’s a moot point.”

“So, maybe he hasn’t, but he sure as hell wants you tucked away in Bristol, waiting for him when he makes it back occasionally,” she countered. “It just pisses me off that you allow it, too.” She mimicked his voice: “Tylar be here when I get back; Tylar, why would you desecrate your navel like that? Tylar get in bed and spread your legs.” Her imitation of Trey’s voice was actually pretty good, but she still didn’t know that Trey and I had never been sexual.

“We
don’t
have that kind of a relationship. I’ve told you it’s not that serious.”

“Or what about him telling you he’s in fucking Atlanta all this week, what about that? If Ian and I hadn’t had to visit his firm on Tuesday to sign the quit claim deed transferring the Sanctuary into an LLC with one of his partners, you'd never have found out he wasn’t even in the state, would you?”

“Probably not,” I replied. “It’s not my style to check up on him.”

“Well, I’m sorry, friend, but it is
my
style, at least with a guy like
him
,” she scoffed.

“I didn’t ask you to check up on him did I? But when he gets back and finds out what you did, he’s going to think I asked you to and I'm just not that worried about where he is or what he does. I don’t roll that way.”

“Hey,” Gina snapped, but not really pissed, “I don’t do things so as to be obvious about it. I just happened to ask his assistant if Trey was in, I said I was an old neighbor from Bristol, which is sort of the truth.”

“Okay,” I responded, “so what about when he gets back and his assistant said that an old neighbor was asking about him? He knows that you and I are friends, what conclusion do you think he'll come to then?”

“No worries,” she giggled. “I told her a fake name.”

Fan-fucking-tastic…

“Besides that,” she said, “why are you defending him? You’re pissed at him most of the time anyway.”

“We have a complicated relationship. I care deeply for him, but I’m also put off by his need to control me. So, I give him space and looks like he’s giving me mine. You know, it’s not like I expected that he'd do anything for my birthday.”

“It doesn’t matter, Ty. Let’s not mention the asshole for the rest of the night. Tonight's all about partying!”

“I’m not the one who brought his name up in the first place,” I pointed out. “I’m with you; this is my night that you've made possible. I love you for it. Please, let’s not argue?” I gave her a hug and we finally changed the subject.

The Sanctuary was located in the trendy Buckhead district of Atlanta. Our limo pulled up to the club’s entrance and idled. The beats from inside filtered out onto the sidewalk and groups of young patrons patiently waited in line; one in, one out. The chauffeur exited our limo and opened the doors for both of us. We took our time stepping out, loving our chance to make an entrance.

Inside, the spacious club was packed. There were various levels of the club with tables, booths, a bar area, and a multi-level dance floor that was already flooded with people. I noticed that there was a mezzanine that bordered the entire club with two separate staircases leading to it. Gina read my thoughts.

“Do you want to sit at a table on the mezzanine?” she yelled over the music. “It’s roomier and we can at least hear each other talk!”

“Sounds good to me,” I yelled back.

We headed up that way and right before we got to the wide staircase, Ian came up to Gina, grabbed her from behind, and gave her a giant kiss. I had to smile as I watched them in action. Ian stood back and admired how sexy she looked. Then he came over to give me a hug and wish me a happy birthday.

“You look fantastic, love,” he hollered. I loved his British accent. What a match, Gina from Jersey and Ian from Manchester, England.

“Thank you!” I yelled back. Finally the song stopped and we had a few moments until the next set played.

“Where’s Piers?" Gina asked. "I want to introduce him to Tylar.”

Ian shook his head. “Giner (that was British for Gina I presumed) you need to let things be with that,” he said.

“Hey it’s her birthday and she's going to want to dance. Who better than Piers?”

Ian laughed and smacked her tight ass. “He’ll be along, I’ll send him up. I should be relieved here in about thirty and then I’ll join you up there, love.”

“I can hardly wait,” Gina giggled. “C’mon Ty, let’s get some drinks.”

Gina got us the VIP table up on the mezzanine. There was an alcove on the mezzanine that was located above the band stage. The mezzanine alcove jutted out a bit over the dance floor, and had its own staircase leading to it. Gina explained it was usually reserved in advance, but she and Ian had kept it available for us. She pushed the button on the wall next to our table to summon our waiter.

Before we were finished with our first round, Ian and Piers had joined us. Piers was extremely good looking and possessed the same hot British accent as Ian. He was about 5'11" in height, lean build, and had dark, almost black hair that was neatly trimmed in what I'd call a business cut. He had dark brown eyes, and a very relaxed demeanor about him.

The next group up was a Scottish boy band that Ian discovered in Atlantic City. They were called “Johnnie and the Self Abusers.” I had a fairly good buzz going, and Piers leaned over the table and asked me if I wanted to dance.

“Sure, I said, grabbing his outstretched hand as he helped me up. We descended the stairs to the lit dance floor.

As the song ended, I raised my head from Piers shoulder. He had his head bowed slightly toward me. Suddenly his lips were brushing mine in a sweet kiss.

Seriously?

“Happy Birthday, Tylar,” he said, smiling.

I returned his smile. He put his arm around me and we headed back up the staircase. A tray of Jell-O shots had been set at the table. Oh God, the dreaded Jell-O shots, my downfall from senior prom. I pushed that memory from my mind and tossed the shot back. Right then someone came up from behind me put his arms around me with a squeeze and gave me a “Gotcha!”

“Oh my God!’ I squealed, turning around to see Luke, Clint, and Rodney. “Gina didn’t tell me you were coming!” I jumped up to hug them.

“Whoa,” Clint whistled, checking out my outfit.

“I see that ‘Whoa,’ and raise you a ‘Wow!’” said Rodney.

I blushed.

“You guyyzzz” I gushed, feeling no pain. “C’mon it’s my birthday, let’s toast!” We all grabbed a Jell-O shot and toasted. The band below was keying up for another tune. The lead singer had the mic, announcing the next song.

“Okay everyone, we’re going to do a two-song tribute right now to the ‘King of Funk.’ So, I want everyone to hurry on down to this dance floor. That’s right, for the late great, King of Funk, Mr. Rick James his 1981 hit, “Super Freak!”

“C’mon,” Gina, said, grabbing my arm as the band struck the first note. “Everybody!” she commanded.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or my friends around me, or the way I was dressed, but all inhibitions left me when I stepped on the dance floor. Gina was freak-dancing with Luke, so I grabbed Rodney and started freaking. I was bumping and grinding against Rodney, then turned and he did the same to me. At one point I was down at his ankles working my way back up his body to the beat when I froze around his mid-section. I was being watched by a pair of very familiar, very emblazoned sapphire blue eyes. Trey sat at the bar adjacent to the dance floor, leaning back with a beer in his hand and a blonde on his left. I couldn’t tell if they were together or not.

Rodney noticed I'd not come back up all the way, and bent down to face me. “Are you all right? Are you going to be sick?” he asked, concerned.

“I may be,” I answered, “Don’t turn around Rodney, but Trey's sitting over at the bar, and he’s looking over this way.” Naturally, Rodney turned and saw him.

“Fuck that,” he said. “I’m outtie.”

Lovely.

I wasn't about to be intimidated by Trey so I danced over to Clint and joined them.

As “Super Freak” ended, the band immediately cued up another Rick James song, “Party All the Time,” as in ‘my girl wants to.’

Perfect.

Clint and I danced to the tune, along with Gina and Luke. We were bumping and grinding and I was getting the ultimate pleasure watching Trey squirm in my very astute peripheral vision. I made sure, when the song ended, to wrap my arms around Clint in a big hug. I think he was a little shocked.

As we climbed the stairs to the mezzanine, Gina nudged me with her elbow. “That was quite a little show you put on down there for Trey. You looking to get Clint and Rodney’s asses kicked tonight?”

My look of surprise and shock didn’t fool Gina at all.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “I know how you roll, and I’ve got no problem with the dude sitting over there watching you and feeling like his heart's being ripped out, believe me. But c’mon, Ty, you know that's not really fair to Clint and Rodney when he chews them out later, right?”

“I was dancing with Piers, too,” I argued. “So you think Trey’s going to take a piece out of his hide, too?”

“Doubtful,” she answered. “I don't think he was even here when that happened, but even if he was, you weren’t
dry-humping
Piers like you did with the others.”

“It’s called ‘freaking,’” I argued, “and it’s a perfectly acceptable dance.”

“Uh huh,” Gina replied. “I'm not the one you have to convince. I was doing it too, you know. It’s just that, well…” Gina started giggling almost uncontrollably, “My partner didn’t leave the dance floor with a hard-on like both of yours did!”

“Shut up! No they didn’t!” I laughed. “You're making that up.” I was laughing so hard that I didn’t notice that Trey was walking to the dance floor with the blonde who'd been sitting next to him at the bar. Gina hadn’t missed a thing, though, as she glanced at me.

“Showtime,” she said, nodding her head toward the dance floor. I turned to follow her gaze and my heart sank to my knees. We hurried the rest of the way up the steps. As the slow song played, I felt like my party bubble had burst. He was here, but not with me. I felt the warm tears brimming in my eyes, threatening to spill. Gina saw it, too.

“C’mon,” she said, taking my hand, “let’s go to the little girls’ room.”

We'd barely made it inside the restroom when the floodgates opened. Gina found a box of tissues and was trying to do damage control to the eye make-up she'd so carefully and expertly applied earlier.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You're going to be fine, no need for tears.” She was trying her best to soothe me.

“Why is he here?” I blubbered. “And he brought a
fucking
date."

“Now you don't know that he brought that chick. Come on, don't cry, your make-up is gonna run.” Gina was dabbing away.

“I don’t care what I look like. I want to leave.”

“Oh, no, we're going nowhere, girlfriend. Now you just take a minute and calm yourself down and listen to me. I mean it.”

I nodded obediently. Gina took out a compact and dabbed some pressed power just underneath my eyelids.

“There, that’s better,” she said. She then got some pencil liner out and relined my bottom lids. “Perfect,” she said. “Now, I need to tell you something,” she started in a conciliatory tone. “I'm probably the reason that Trey's in here tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I said something to Aunt Becky when I talked to her last week. I let her know that Ian and I were having you come to Atlanta this weekend to celebrate your birthday. I asked her to let Clint and the others know, and that they were invited as Ian’s and my guests to the Sanctuary tonight in honor of your birthday. I swear to God that I didn’t ask her to invite Trey, though.”

“Gina, you knew that between Clint, Luke, and Rodney, Trey was bound to find out, now didn’t you?”

“So, what if he did? He should be here for your birthday.”

“I don’t get you,” I replied, slightly amused. “One minute you act like you think Trey's a major control freak Nazi, and the next minute it’s like you’re playing matchmaker with us. What’s up with that?”

“Well, I do think he’s somewhat of a Nazi, yeah, but he’s your Nazi. For whatever reason, and even I don’t understand it, when I see you two around each other there's this hot energy that you bring out in each other. I mean, yeah, it drives me nuts when I see him go all ‘Edward Cullen’ on you, but I think you need to play it out. It could be something really good.”

“You're something else,” I laughed. I couldn’t be mad at her. “Let’s get back to my party,” I said, squaring my shoulders.

Chapter 22

We returned to our table on the mezzanine just as the bands were switching out and regular music was playing over the sound system. I sipped a vodka sonic, amazed that I was still pretty much sober after all the shots I’d taken. Luke and Rodney had met a couple of girls from a table downstairs and invited them up to party with us.