“It’s still a bitch drink, whether you’re honoring someone or not.”
A slow smile crosses my face. “Yeah… yeah, it is. So, who the fuck are you?”
He rolls his shoulders, then takes a sip of his beer. “That’s a loaded question.”
I shrug. “I have all night.”
He turns to face me. “To everyone in here, I’m Rush Dayley, music’s latest IT guy. A fucking mega superstar. To me, I’m just a guy from Detroit who wants to relax a little.”
“So, you’re famous then?”
He exhales, his body slumping further. “Yeah. I wish sometimes I wasn’t, though. Don’t get me wrong, I love my fans and the biz. I just wish I could come out on a night like tonight and drink a beer in fucking peace.”
I grip his shoulder. “Well, brother, I’m not gonna say anything to draw attention to you. So, let’s have a fucking beer.”
Rush’s boyish grin lights his face, turning his back to everyone in the patio. “Yeah, man, I appreciate that.”
I lift my glass, he lifts his beer and we clink them together in cheers. I take a large mouthful, the alcohol running through my veins, warming me from the inside out. My goal was to have a good time while in NOLA to celebrate Em and enjoy her memory.
What better way to do that than to party with a rock star?
JOVIE
“Do you honestly believe spending the night partying on Bourbon Street is a good idea?”
Savanah rolls her eyes as she applies her lipstick. “Babe, we’re eight hours away from San Antonio and what happened to you at The Lone Wolf.” She smiles. “Eight. Hours! That’s a lot of mileage between them and us, don’t you think?”
I slump on the bed in our hotel room, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know… I’m just worried that with the time we’ve taken to travel, he’ll be right behind us.”
Savanah presses her lips together, then smacks them with a pop. “Look, if they are right behind us, they’re inevitably going to catch up to us anyway, right?”
My eyes widen in shock. “That doesn’t help me, Sav!”
“My point is… if they’re going to catch us, we may as well go out having a night of fun.”
Groaning, I flop back on the bed in a huff. Staring up at the ceiling, I shake my head. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
Savanah moves in over the top of me, staring right into my eyes. “Babe, you’re not taking this seriously. We’re two hot-as-sin women out in the big wide world on our own for the first time. We have no limitations. No one, like my father, holding me back, no one holding you back trying to tell us what we can and can’t do. Aren’t you excited by that?” She leans down pressing her bright red lips to my forehead, then disappears from my view.
The white ceiling is all I can see as I stare at it, contemplating what she’s said.
“You know I’m right!”
She is.
That’s the problem.
Grumbling under my breath, I sit up. “Fine, one night. That’s all. One night in New Orleans, then we keep driving.”
Savanah rolls her shoulders with the brightest smirk on her face. “Fine by me as long as you put on that sexy black dress I bought you.”
Huffing, I stand from the bed, then walk over to my suitcase. “You win! We go out. We look hot. We drink and have fun. But tomorrow—”
“Yeah, yeah, Miss Serious, I hear you.”
Yanking my suitcase up onto the bed, I zip it open, pulling out my little black dress. It’s like a corset around the bust and waist, then flows out to a see-through lace skirt, only covering just enough to hide my black lace panties. The dress is sexiness personified.
I’m no stranger to revealing clothing, but this, this is something else. Savanah is desperate for me to wear it, and what better place for me to wear something like this than on Bourbon Street, where anything goes? Grabbing my black leather jacket, I put on my ensemble, then walk to the bathroom to deal with my blonde hair and makeup.
Savanah stands next to me admiring herself. Her short, wavy dark brown hair is styled perfectly to suit her look. The tight, form-fitting, bright yellow short dress glows against her olive skin and is exactly her. Her breasts are pushed up to maximum capacity. She’s a real stunner, everything her father would be so utterly ashamed about. He’s the whole reason Savanah is here in this mess with me. Honestly, I’m not sure if I could be doing this without her.
“You’re thinking too much. You need to stop dwelling and enjoy tonight. We’re freaking bangin’. Bourbon Street won’t know what’s hit it,” Savanah chimes.
I let out a small giggle, wrapping my arm around her short stature. “You’re right. I’m going to unwind tonight. Let my hair down and just enjoy everything. I mean I’ve always wanted to get out of San Antonio. Now I have, and I’m not embracing it. I’m in fucking N’awlins.”
“Yeah, you are!” Savanah wraps her other arm around my waist, pulling me into an embrace. “And we’re going to have the best night.”
“Okay, let’s go to that bar and have a tornado.”
Savanah bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, you’re adorable. It’s called a hurricane, and girl, it’s going to blow your damn mind.” She grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door. I struggle to keep up with her frantic pace in my heels, but I smile the entire time as we exit the hotel, then walk toward Bourbon Street. As the noise of the crowd surrounds us, the tension in my shoulders evaporates. Savanah takes pictures with her camera as we walk—she’s gotten really good on that thing.
Bourbon Street is alive and buzzing, the atmosphere utterly electric. It’s been on my bucket list for as long as I remember, so I’m soaking up every little thing. After a short wait to get into Pat O’Brien’s, we head through to the patio to find a seat, but it’s freaking packed out here. The crowd is pulsing with the music, and it’s really fucking busy.
“You wanna grab our drinks and move to the back somewhere?” I yell in Savanah’s ear.
She nods her head as we squeeze through a crowd of people, too busy making out to notice us making our way past them. We place our orders at the outside bar.
Grabbing two hurricanes, we then start the mission to find somewhere to sit. My feet are already killing me from the walk to Bourbon Street. I should’ve worn more comfortable heels. Savanah grabs my hand, leading me through the sea of people. We’re doing the rounds as music blasts from the speakers, but we’re having no luck finding somewhere to sit. She takes off to do another round of the patio again, when she suddenly darts toward the back of the area. I struggle to keep up with her as she rushes toward the table right in the corner.
“Sav, slow down.”
“We have to get there before other people grab the seats.”
I let out a small laugh as she races to a table where two men are sitting. One is wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, while the other peeks up at me.
Savanah slides down onto one of the free seats making herself at home. “Finally! These seats aren’t taken, are they, boys?” she asks.
The guy with the hat tries to cover himself more, but the other, his hazel eyes lock onto mine, and my breath catches. His strong arms, bulging from his white tee make my insides shudder. The way his tattoos peek out from beneath his shirt on his chest shows me a hint of bad boy, but his face tells me he has good in him, a kindness. His hair is short with small, tight black curls on top and shaved at the sides. But those muscles, shit! I can tell he works out, just from the way his biceps swell as he holds the same drink as mine. He’s sexy as sin, even holding a girly drink. I lick my lips inadvertently as he eyes me up and down, a pained expression crossing his features. I’m not sure what that’s about.