Devlin UnLeashed(2)

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” Trace shouted over the loud music as Claire and I settled into two stools at a small, circular table set against the wall. Claire stared at Trace as he walked away, unaware I watched her hidden interest in him.

Trace was tall with lean muscles and floppy blond hair. Tonight he wore black skinny jeans with chains hanging off his belt and a grunge gray t-shirt. He was everything Claire hated in guys, the bad boy who played in a band and got whatever girl he wanted. But what always threw Claire off about Trace was how smart he was. Claire was a perfectionist who was here on a full scholarship, but there’ve been plenty of times Trace had to help her through her coursework. His intelligence attracted and confused her.

Claire turned to me as Trace disappeared into the crowd. She flushed when she noticed my knowing smile. In an effort to divert me from bringing it up, she asked, “So how’d your audition go?”

“It was really great. I think I’m getting this one. It’s just a small production, but I’m excited.” I couldn’t contain the enthusiasm in my voice.

Claire smiled. “Well, you deserve it. You’re an amazing dancer.”

I nodded my thanks, and as I looked over her shoulder, something pulled my attention to the balcony where the VIP section was located. It was mostly dark from this angle, but the soft glow of the blue light revealed a man. He looked straight at me and didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t watching me when I stared his way. Nervously, I turned away but still felt the heat of his gaze lingering.

“Did you hear me, Jules?”

“Huh?” Claire drew my attention off the man, but I kept glancing up, so she got curious and turned to see what had caught my attention.

“Do you know him?” I asked, thinking I was wrong and maybe he was eyeing Claire. Though she was modestly dressed in jeans and a silk blouse, she was strikingly pretty with her dark hair and green eyes. She was beautiful with a serious demeanor.

She shook her head and turned her attention to Trace as he returned with a beer and two watermelon martinis for Claire and me. Claire looked at the glass he put down in front of her and began complaining about him purposely getting her alcohol when he knew she was the designated driver. I sipped on my drink and glanced around the club, knowing this would turn into a huge disagreement.

It was still early, so it wasn’t overly crowded yet. I knew Claire and Trace would continue bickering for a while. The argument went from being about a drink to Trace’s lack of self-control and irresponsibility. I wondered how much longer it would take for them to realize they had feelings for one another. I’d even tried to push them toward each other a few times, but those attempts had backfired, ending in them not speaking for weeks.

I snuck a glance at the VIP section, hoping I was covert enough not to give away my intention to check on the man in the balcony.

Yup. He was still there watching me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, and just as I was about to turn my gaze away from him, a strobe of light flashed on his face, and my stomach tightened. It was the guy I had spilled my coffee on days ago. I turned away quickly, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass.

Trace picked up Claire’s glass and drank the contents in a few big gulps then slammed it down in front of her. “There!” he shouted, his face twisted with frustration. “Now you can be a proper designated driver. Just stop fucking nagging me.”

Claire crossed her arms, biting down on her lip, but not before I saw her lips tremble. She was seething, on the verge of tears, but she held it in and just stared at him, shaking her head to the same rhythm her leg had taken up.

“Come on, Juliana, let’s dance.” Trace yanked my hand and dragged me to the middle of the dance floor, far enough away from Claire that we couldn’t see her. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and buried his face into my neck as we swayed rather slowly to the up-tempo beat.

“Why the fuck does she hate me, Jules?”

“She doesn’t hate you.” She hated the feelings she had for a rebel, so she came down on him for any and everything he did, even buying her a drink, which was supposed to be a nice gesture.

As Trace moved me around the dance floor, again my eyes were drawn to the upstairs balcony. The man had no qualms about blatantly eyeing me, so this time I returned his stare, allowing myself to take him in.

He was dressed in dark colors. The light strobes that occasionally hit his face revealed a stormy expression, which seemed to be his trademark.

The song finished and I pulled out of Trace’s embrace as the next one began. He looked over at our table where Claire was engrossed in conversation with a guy in a suit. His forlorn expression broke my heart. I wished Claire could see that being wild and carefree wasn’t Trace’s flaw. But being too stubborn to see how good they would be together was definitely her flaw. She was hindered by the strict plans she set up for her life, and it didn’t leave room for the unexpected and the reckless.