She’d like to think she’d grown in the almost four years since she’d last been in trouble, that she’d freed herself a little of the angry anti-socialite she’d become, especially after Marcelo’s unceremonious departure. Coming to 5th Street really had been a saving grace for Lila. Not only had it helped her deal with her anger issues, it was also her first job. It was where she met Stacia. Aside from Ali, Stacia was now the only other person Lila trusted completely. Marcelo had lost his spot on that list when he decided to leave without so much as a good-bye.
Not only did Stacia help her get her first job, Lila would be eternally grateful to her friend for helping her and Ali get their own place. A little over a year ago, Lila and Ali were still at a low-income, state-assisted building in a rundown, roach-infested apartment in East Los Angeles. Stacia’s roommate had moved out suddenly, and she needed a new roommate fast. With Lila’s new promotion from juice-bar girl to the youth-program assistant at 5th Street, she could afford the other half of Stacia’s rent. She and Ali were finally out of that horrid neighborhood. The Boyle Heights project, where Stacia’s apartment was located, wasn’t the most glamorous, but it was a step up from her old neighborhood.
There’d been a few incidents since she’d met Stacia almost four years ago, incidents that thankfully had happened outside of the gym. But Stacia had been there and witnessed Lila’s infamous temper. Not once had it ever been directed toward Stacia, who’d always been sympathetic to Lila about it. Stacia got that Lila was trying to break free from that destructive behavior and her knee-jerk reactions. Lila was an adult now. Dire consequences could result from just reacting, and she’d already paid for one. While Lila had made great strides in controlling that explosive part of her when it came to certain things annoying her to no end, today’s incident with Ms. Bitch was proof that she still had her work cut out for her.
The incident in the ring with Noah was another story. Lila doubted she’d ever be able to refrain from reacting to anyone putting their hands on her. It was why, aside from her personal reasons, she’d never even considered boxing until Gio began insisting. Like with Noah, if anyone ever got physical with her in a negative way, she’d lose her shit in an instant.
“You’re gonna have to get rid of that.” Stacia pointed at the Big Gulp cup of iced tea Lila was holding. “They won’t let you in with it.”
Lila glanced around, downing most of the rest because she didn’t want to waste it. The only trashcan she spotted was on the other side of the small alley next to the building.
“I’ll be back.” She started toward the trashcan, still sucking away at her tea.
Just as she took a step across the alley, a car skidded loudly, making her jump back. Even as her heart pounded, Lila cussed under her breath about the tea she spilled on her T-shirt. When she looked up at the car that had come inches from hitting her, the guy behind the wheel mouthed the word sorry.
Another guy popped his head out of the moon roof. “You okay, sweetness? Need a little help cleaning up? I got two extra hands here.”
It was only then that she realized it was a limo. Lila refrained from throwing her cup at him like she wanted to. Ignoring him, she walked around the front end of the car to the trashcan. The limo pulled out of the alley and stopped as the back window of the limo reached the sidewalk. A guy in the back seat—not the douche in the moon roof—held out napkins to her. “I apologize for my driver, and I’m not even sure what to say about the guy up there.” Their eyes met just long enough for her to notice how deep blue his were. Then her own eyes were on that perfect yet familiar smile. “Seriously though, are you okay?”
If it weren’t for the fact that she had a major wet spot on her T-shirt, she might not have accepted the napkins. “Thanks. I’m fine.” She took the napkins then walked around the limo from behind.
“Are you okay?” Stacia asked as soon as Lila reached her.
Lila nodded, still focused on wiping the tea off her T-shirt. “Yeah, but your shirt might be stained. I spilled my tea on it.”
“Who cares about that. I’m just glad that stupid limo driver saw you in time.”
Lila shrugged with a frown. “My fault too. I didn’t even look up the alley before walking across. It just scared the shit outta me, but other than the wet T-shirt, no harm done.”
They finally made it to the door of the club and entered. “Thank you.” Stacia smiled big at the doorman who pointed them in the direction of the stairs to the VIP area. Lila’s excitable friend turned back to her with a big smile. “Derek said there might even be celebrities in the VIP room. This band is way bigger in Vegas, where they originate from, but they’ve been expanding and touring different cities now. And while they used to have mostly a cult following, their following is getting much bigger. Just remember.” She touched Lila on the arm. “Derek said to try and not be too starry-eyed and definitely don’t do anything embarrassing like ask for autographs in the VIP area or what not.”
Stacia laughed when Lila gave her the look. As if she were the type to get starry-eyed over anyone, much less approach them for an autograph. As big as Felix and Abel were, the most she’d done when she first saw them was stare from afar and made sure she did so very discreetly. As exciting as it’d been to see them in person and later meet them, she’d never felt starry-eyed.
“Okay, okay.” Stacia laughed as they entered the VIP area. “I guess what I’m really saying is don’t let me do anything stupid.”
This time Lila laughed. That made far more sense than her warning Lila. Stacia had to coax her to come to this in the first place. They both knew the only thing she’d be doing tonight was watching the band. Lila didn’t even drink.
They walked around for a bit, trying to find two open seats together. They finally found a perfect spot by the railing with a great view of the stage downstairs. Stacia hurried to the small table and set her phone down on it before anyone else could claim it. It was a close call. A couple of other girls had been headed straight to it just before Stacia got there first. As expected, the girls eyed them with a little attitude.
Since Stacia was engaged now and was supposed to have come here tonight with Derek, she’d purposely dressed down tonight. She’d told Lila not to worry about dressing up. This was a laid-back kind of band.
The girls who gave Lila and Stacia a sneer then exchanged smirks were all done up, tits and asses hanging out of their teeny tiny painted on outfits. Stacia was in jeans she’d dressed up with a pair of black boots but wore an old Ratz T-shirt. While Stacia wore far more makeup and did her hair in a more girlie do than Lila ever did, she was nowhere as done up as those girls.
Lila had worn her hair down, something she didn’t do often. But the closest she’d ever gotten to being girlie was wearing what Stacia referred to as her sexy low-rise jeans like the ones she’d worn tonight. She’d also worn one of Stacia’s T-shirts. Lila wasn’t opposed to the tighter than her normal T-shirt or even the lower than her usual V-neck. Stacia insisted if she had the goods she should show them off. Lila had the goods alright, and she wore sports crop tops for working out because they were just more comfortable than a baggy T-shirt. The short T-shirt Stacia had coaxed her into wearing to show off her equally impressive abs made her uncomfortable. Showing off a little skin in the gym was one thing, but Lila refused to be confused for one of those slutty-looking bitches who clearly didn’t appreciate Lila and Stacia beating them to the table.
Tugging at the bottom of her T-shirt for the hundredth time, Lila glanced around. “Maybe having that Big Gulp in line wasn’t such a good idea. I have to go, bad.”
“Well, you’re going alone. We’ll just take turns. I ain’t giving up this table.” Stacia frowned, looking down at Lila’s hand. “And will you stop trying to tug it down. You’re gonna stretch it. It’s sexy, not slutty, to show off a little midriff. You look fine. I promise.” She pointed behind Lila. “The bathrooms are probably through that hallway over there.”
Lila turned to where Stacia w
as pointing, unable to keep herself from glancing in the direction of the girls she hadn’t been aware were still eyeballing them. Yep. They were still at it. Really? Over a table? And this was why she didn’t drink. She’d grown out of and was beyond the immaturity of needing to address this kind of shit with a stare down like back in her middle and high school days.
She was an adult now. While she’d never been drunk, she’d been around enough drunks in her lifetime to know how stupid and uncharacteristically brave alcohol could make some people. She’d take a few puffs of weed any day over alcohol. That stuff did just the opposite for Lila. It calmed her nice and good. She hadn’t done it in ages because she was trying to set an example for her sister and because 5th Street policy was that they reserved the right to randomly test for drug use, especially since she was the assistant in charge of the youth program now.
Glancing one last time at the broads, Lila rolled her eyes. If these girls didn’t do anything more antagonizing than just give them stupid looks, Lila could be cool.
She stood up, mindful not to keep stretching Stacia’s T-shirt. “Okay, I’ll be back,” she said, tapping the table with her hand. “I just hope there’s not a line.”
“This is VIP, baby. I’m assuming that means the restroom situation isn’t what it normally is at clubs.”
Lila could only hope, because she had to go bad now. It was almost a joke how hard some of these girls seemed to try to be noticed by all the guys there. Did they not know all they had to do was make eye contact and crack a smile to have these horny assholes following them around all night? Not that Lila had any club experience, but it’d happened more than once at the gym. And it was annoying as shit. It was during the time where she was trying to be friendlier—nicer. A smile was all it had taken. One damn smile.
After a couple of annoying guys followed her around the gym, trying to make small talk and feeding her cheesy lines, she’d gone back to avoiding eye contact at all costs, especially when she was not in the mood to deal with that stuff, which was often. Let them think she was an anti-social bitch. Unlike most of the slutty girls at the gym, working out with full on makeup and barely there workout outfits, Lila wasn’t there to find a man.
The same mentality went hand in hand with night clubs. Agreeing to come here tonight so Stacia’s VIP tickets wouldn’t go to waste was one thing. Lila may’ve never been to a club, but she’d been to plenty of backyard parties in her day. This didn’t seem all too different as far as leering guys who did nothing to make their elevator eyes discreet. From what she could see, this was a meat market too. Everyone here was looking to either get laid or find their soul mate, which was an even bigger joke. She’d watch the show with Stacia, and it’d probably be the last club she’d be stepping into for a while.
Lila cursed under her breath when she saw the line to the ladies’ room. “VIP my ass,” she muttered as she reached the back of the line.
The door at the end of the hall opened, causing an instant buzz. A few guys in similar black T-shirts walked out. They made their way slowly through the crowded hallways, stopping a few times to take selfies with some of the girls in line for the restroom and chat a bit. Lila watched, refraining from rolling her eyes so openly at the girls swinging their hair over their shoulders with their big fake laughs.
Obviously, these were band members; though Lila didn’t recognize a single one. She’d heard their music plenty. Stacia played it enough. But Lila had only ever seen them on her T-shirt where the photos of them weren’t that clear and then a few times online. She accidently made eye contact with one of them, and he smiled, pointing at her shirt, then gave her the thumbs-up. Lila smiled but looked away quickly. All eyes were on him and the rest of the group. She did not want all those eyes on her too.
The rest of the band members and their entourage continued to make their way slowly through the crowded hallway. Lila could only hope some of the girls in line falling all over themselves to get noticed would follow them out so the line would get shorter.
Things calmed once the band and their entourage were gone. The line had barely moved, and Lila stood there discreetly starting to dance in place because she had to go so bad. Why the hell had she drunk that entire Big Gulp?
As she glanced around, the door at the end of the hallway opened again. This time three other guys, who didn’t look anything like band members because they were dressed more refined than the torn jeans and black T-shirts the band members had worn, came out. They were also a lot bigger—like body guards—club security maybe?
Lila’s eyes zoomed in on the tallest, biggest of the three. She’d never proclaimed to have a type, but if she had to be honest, she tended to be drawn to big guys, the taller the better. As big as this guy was, he had to be part of the group’s or club’s security team. All three men stood out, but he was by far the most impressive.
It wasn’t until she brought her eyes back up that she noticed he’d caught her ogling him like a piece of meat. What was worse, she was still dancing in place, and he wore a playful smirk now as he took her in from top to bottom. That’s when she realized who he was, the guy in the back of the limo.
Beyond annoyed with herself, Lila turned away without so much as a smile in return. Not only had she done the very thing she’d been trying to avoid since she’d walked into the place, she’d been so busy ogling him she didn’t notice the line had moved. With a frown, she crossed her arms in front of her still damp T-shirt and moved up to close the big gap between her and the girl in front of her. She also stopped the dancing in place and refused to look anywhere but straight ahead. Aside from his eyes being that odd color of in between blue and gray, the other thing she remembered about seeing him in the backseat of that limo was that there had been girls in the car with them.
Staring straight ahead as the guys in front of him went past her, Lila did her best to not even glance in their direction.
“There’s—”
Lila flinched at the unexpected whispered word in her ear. She was even more surprised to turn and see it was him. He flashed that perfect smile that for some reason felt genuine. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He leaned in and lowered his voice again, giving her a good whiff of whatever subtle but very pleasant-smelling cologne he was wearing, unlike some of the overpowering ones she’d smelled on a few other guys tonight. “I can get you into a private bathroom in the back room if you really have to go.” He pulled away and looked her in the eyes then smiled once again. “I saw the jumbo-sized cup you were drinking from out there. Not sure if you’re gonna make the wait.”
If Lila’s bladder was even the slightest bit less close to bursting, she would’ve turned him down flat, perfect smile and all. But she had to go so bad. Just the thought of being that much closer to relief made the ache in her bladder worse. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised at her agreeing so quickly—her or the guy. His eyes went even bigger and seemed to twinkle when she nodded. Almost as if he was afraid she might change her mind, he held his hand out for her.
“I’ll meet you out there,” he said to one of the guys he’d walked out with.
Desperate didn’t even begin to describe how she’d begun to feel. It was why she’d done something so unlike her and didn’t protest his leading her by the hand to the back room. It wasn’t even until she was in the damn bathroom, blissfully relieved to have made it there without wetting herself, that she realized what she’d just done. She’d let a stranger take her into a back room of a club. Now she was perfectly alone with him. A very large stranger—albeit a good-looking one with a genuinely sweet smile—but a stranger nonetheless. Even Stacia would have no idea what happened to her if she got raped and dumped in the back alley.
After washing her hands, she clenched them at her side. This guy might be big, but she’d taken that self-defense class with Ali, even though she didn’t think she needed it. Even before taking the class, she’d known exactly where to aim for if need be, but she’d learned a few new tricks in the cla
ss too.
“Thank you,” she said as she walked out of the bathroom.
The guy had made himself comfortable on the sofa in the room. He’d better think again if he thought she’d be doing the same. He stood up, and now that she wasn’t distracted by the torture of an aching bladder, she noticed a few more things about him. For someone with eyes that could go so light blue they were almost gray, his hair was very dark. When he’d first walked out the back door, she pegged him as security because he looked so big, but this close she could see he was slim in all the right places with a very impressive physique, yet big in all the right places as well. He wasn’t wearing an ear piece like the guys at the door.
For the second time that night, Lila did something uncharacteristic of herself. She decided to give into her curiosity and just ask. “Are you security for the band?”
The expression on his face was a strange one. It seemed amused with a hint of something else she couldn’t quite make out. Surprised or suspicious maybe?
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh.”
Despite that his smile bordered on the smug side, he didn’t come across as your usual arrogant jerk who knew he was hot. Without Lila knowing anything about him, he seemed far more likable. Maybe it was that he took the time to apologize outside about his driver and his friend and even offered napkins. Lila wasn’t sure what it was. All she knew was he didn’t appear dangerous.
Something about that smug yet friendly smile, coupled with the fact that he wasn’t dressed like a wannabe rocker like so many others in attendance, deemed him safe. He seemed a bit older than most of the boys here too—mature—and his attire was far classier with the untucked, buttoned-up long-sleeved shirt he rolled up to his elbows and his crisp dark denim jeans. Not like the holey and faded jeans most of the rocker wannabes wore. His entire presence was far more respectable as he’d sort of proven outside. At least it was what her head had started to convince her of, what she would tell Stacia when she admitted to going into a back room alone with a stranger.