I watch for a couple of beats, but the loud house music and dim lights make it impossible for me to understand what they’re saying. The fact that none of them feel my eyes on them enough to look up is telling though—they’re all completely lost in conversation. Oliver throws his head back in laughter, and I swear I can feel it rumble from his chest to mine. Or maybe it’s the speaker I’m leaning against. Either way, it’s enough for me to finally shuffle my feet in the opposite direction and head to the bar. I’ll go back over there after I’ve supplied my body with the liquid courage it needs to sit next to them . . . next to him. As soon as my ass touches the stool, I ask for a drink and start looking around, watching the bodies move and the women strut across the dance floor in search of their next victim. Two drinks later, I get up and walk back to the VIP area, giving a wave to the girl who walked me in before. She smiles and escorts me back to where Vic is, and I stand directly in front of them so they’ll hear me over the music.
