Brooke Jaxsen [Club Grit 03] Shatter (epub)

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.I looked up and gasped: the ceiling of this section had been rigged so that it looked like the night sky.I don’t mean it was dark and there were pinpricks of light: it was as if I was under the stars in the middle of nowhere, except I’m pretty sure that there aren’t large beds and absinthe and dubstep remixes of pop songs playing in the middle of nowhere.Lawrence leaned back, hands behind his head, and shimmied further on the bed.I followed his lead and we just looked up at the stars for a while.They were blinking, like real stars, and a few were in different colors, like dark red and bright orange, and every few minutes, a shooting star trailed across the ceiling.“How does it work?” I asked.“Is it a TV or something?”“Actually, it’s a lot cheaper.Each of those stars is part of a group, which blinks at the same time, operated by a single controller.The blinking is actually set to the beat of the music outside, and because something fast is playing, they’re blinking faster.If someone were to play something like a slow sonata, they’d pulsate much more slowly.The planets just have different LEDs hooked up to the fiber optics, and the shooting stars are their own groups, which are set to go off in set paths in a certain way.Because there’s just spaces that glow, like pixels, instead of a bunch of stuff glowing, like a television, where even a so-called dark screen still lets off light, the stars look more realistic because they’re against a matte black background,” explained Lawrence.I turned to him.“You own the club, don’t you?”He chuckled and took my hand in his, and I didn’t pull my hand away.“How did you guess?”“I’ve never seen anyone up here before, someone called the bouncer to let us in, and you know a lot about that ceiling,” I said with a laugh of my own.“I guess the jig is up.You’ve caught me.I do own Club Grit,” he said, pressing his palms up into the air as if he was putting his hands up, admitting that he was guilty of lying through omission, as if my eyes were guns that could shoot bullets of judgment.I laughed and pressed my hands into his, pulling them down to our hips, and then, pressed the side of my body into the side of his.“It’s fine, Lawrence,” I said with a drunken giggle, a laugh steeped in vodka and good times.“It’s fine.I like the fact you have secrets, the fact that there are parts of you I don’t understand.yet.The fact that you aren’t boring, like the others.”“What others?”“The other others, the ones out there, the others out there, out there, the others,” I said sloppily, pointing out towards the crowd and staggering over to the sheer curtains.I pulled them back and looked out over the balcony, grateful for the handrails, because I knew that if I fell, it’d be fatal, from this high up in the air.Lawrence kept a hold of my hand and moved up behind me, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me close to him, his face grazing the top of my head.“You smell so good,” he murmured, and he took in a large whiff.I wriggled away but he just held onto me even more firmly.“You do,” he insisted.“You mean I don’t smell like club rain?” I joked.“Club rain?” he asked, confused.“Like, the alcohol and sweat and other gross stuff that accumulates and then rains back down on the dancers,” I said with a giggle.“Haven’t you ever noticed that people smell gross after clubbing?”“Not at Club Grit,” he said seriously, looking at me with his light blue eyes that practically glowed, even in the soft light of the VIP area, a stark contrast to the flashing bright lights of the dance floor, where everyone else was.“Even at Club Grit,” I said, turning to face Lawrence and whisper this admission of his club’s flaw into his ear like a secret both about and between lovers, pulling him close as I did so and pressing my chin onto his shoulder.“I like you, Kim,” he said as we watched over the dance floor, noticeably less full than it had been just minutes before.When the club started to clear out, it cleared out quickly, not slowly, and it was getting late.Time had flown by with Lawrence.“Why?”“For a lot of reasons.You call me out on my bullshit.You keep me wanting and waiting.You can actually hold a conversation with me.I know it sounds cliché, but you’re different from other people, and in a good way.You have secrets and don’t reveal too much about yourself, and I’m guessing this is true with your friends as well, but it means that those you share your most intimate parts with are people who have earned your trust and respect.I want to be one of those people, eventually, but I won’t be so presumptuous as to assume that I’m a member of your inner circle.yet,” he said, turning me around and pulling my hips into his lap [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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