Behind His Lens(35)

“You look great, Clarissa,” he offers as his eyes peruse the same path Jude’s had only seconds earlier. Can he see that my skin’s already been set ablaze by someone else? I barely glance over his preppy suit and tie, but I offer him a friendly smile. His dirty blonde hair is gelled back, displaying all of his handsome features, but strangely I don’t see the appeal like I once did.

“Hi Hudson, thanks so much for inviting us. This place is packed.” I tuck my hands into my coat pocket, realizing how chilly the night air is without Jude’s eyes warming my body. “And actually I go by Charley now,” I clarify, hoping he’ll accept the transition without question.

A brief scowl covers his features before he offers a curt nod and turns toward the group.

“C’mon guys, let’s go inside.” Naomi squeals in excitement as Hudson’s hand hits the small of my back over my coat and dress. It’s not a crude gesture, but my eyes immediately dart to Jude as a wave of guilt hits me. Do I expect him to be upset? If so, I should be relieved to see him lift his eyebrows and smile before turning on his heel and leading the way inside.

Heavyset bouncers man the entry, allowing clusters of people to enter every now and then. But when our group walks up, they quickly part the crowd and let us enter with a quick flourish of velvet rope.

Everyone in line boos in protest behind us. I doubt they realize Hudson is one of the owners. They probably just think we’re VIPs or something, which I guess tonight we are. That thought should excite me more and it really was nice of him to invite us, but I’m not sure what he’s expecting from me. Surely he’ll be too busy to actually spend time with us.

The moment we enter the club, the flashing lights and music consume my senses. Sexy dancers in spandex shorts and crop tops dance on platforms as hoards of club-goers circle around the bar and dance floor. There must be hundreds of people inside, but it’s hard to tell in the sexy darkness of the club. Neon lights strobe above the room, illuminating certain areas and casting others into darkness. Our group doesn’t stop until we reach a set of black, glossy stairs that can only lead to trouble.

“We’ll check your coat in VIP. It’ll take less time to get them later on,” Hudson shouts in my ear, and I nod. I’d forgotten I was even wearing it. The club isn’t hot, but I imagine once we hit the dance floor we’ll warm up nicely.


The glossy stairs don’t take us to another floor. The seven steps simply raise the VIP area above the rest of the club so that we’re on an exclusive level. A thin glass railing rims the parameter of the VIP section, further dividing the club between the haves and the have-nots.

Just as my nude Louboutins step onto the second stair, a fast beat takes over the sound system and the entire club erupts in shouts. I twist toward the noise, forcing Hudson’s hand from my back on accident, and spot a house DJ spinning on a stage a few feet away from the VIP area. He’s got a flat-billed hat turned backward and a bright neon shirt over sagging jeans. I recognize his upbeat mix from the radio and the crowd is going wild so I know he must be famous.

Okay, this is pretty cool. Naomi turns around and the absolute joy written across her face says it all.

After we all check out the DJ, Hudson leads the group to a table in the center of the VIP area. A pretty waitress appears to grab our coats. Naomi and I unbutton them and just as I let the wool material drift down my arms, I feel Jude’s gaze practically devouring me, heating the air and caressing my skin with unspoken desire. I can’t look at him; I let my sexy curls hide my face as I try to remember to breathe.

“Wow,” Hudson’s tongue practically falls to the floor as his eyes hover a beat too long on the v-neck of my dress. I know it’s revealing quite a handful of cleavage. Damn you, Naomi.

I glance up toward my traitorous friend and watch her mouth, “Own it.” Easier said than done, but she’s right. I should own it. I flip my hair behind my shoulder and glance up. Everyone’s seated at the table now except for Hudson and me, so I tuck my hands behind the back of my dress and slide into the seat directly opposite Jude. He’s eyeing me with a wicked grin and smoldering eyes; I wish I knew what was going through his thoughts right now. Everything seemed platonic at the coffee shop, even though my emotions were going haywire. Tonight feels different, like we’re both letting our guards slip and forgetting about the repercussions.

I don’t have time to wonder about it further though because Hudson turns to me, leaning in, and pulling me into a private conversation. That’s when it hits me. Jude didn’t bring a date. What the hell? He didn’t bring a date. I glance up briefly. He’s chatting with Naomi and Bennett, but maybe his date will meet us here?