A man who resembles a younger version of Steven Tyler takes the seat next to me and orders a beer before turning his attention to me. A blush creeps up my neck when I turn to find him watching me intently. His lips turn up into a smile, and I retrain my eyes back on the bottle in front of me.
The man shoves a strand of his long, black hair behind his ear. “You need another?”
His accent is delicious. There’s something about a British accent that’s incredibly sexy.
I nod. “Sure.”
Mr. Accent gestures for another beer, and I study his features. His black hair hangs nearly to his broad shoulders, and his tattooed hands poke out from the long sleeved shirt he’s wearing. Both of his ears are pierced along with one eyebrow, and his eyes are deep chocolate. He’s obviously in a band, most guys in here are, but I can’t put my finger on which one.
He turns toward me and holds out his hand. “I’m Striker.”
Ah. That’s where I’ve seen him. He’s the front man of Embrace the Darkness.
I slide my hand in his. “Lanie Vance.”
The bartender returns with the drink and winks at the rocker as she sets it down in front of him.
“Here you go, love,” he says and slides the bottle in my direction. “So, what’s a beautiful lady like you doing in here with this lot?”
I blush again and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m working.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Blimey! You’re a…”
My eyes widen as I realize his mistake. “No!” I nudge his hand. “No. I’m not a…you know. I’m a rep for Center Stage Marketing.”
“Right, I’ve heard of them—out of
. My record label suggested we look
into using them.” He nods and smiles. “Here to pick up new clients then?” New York
I lean closer to his ear so my voice doesn’t compete with the blaring music. “I’m actually working for Black Falcon on their children’s literacy campaign.”
“They make you travel to this shithole town in
for that? Seems
like rubbish to me,” he says in my ear. Ohio
I shrug. “Noel and I are old friends. He kind of got me this job.”
He touches my hand this time when he speaks. “Well, an old friend of Noel’s, can I get your name and maybe give you a ring sometime?”
I take a sip of my drink. There’s nothing wrong with giving him my number, right? It’s not like I’m dating anyone or anything. Besides this guy seems cute and genuinely interested in getting to know me. “I’d like that.”
The rocker picks up his beer and clinks it with mine after he stuffs my cell number in his front, jean pocket. “To new friends.”
“There something you need, Striker?” Noel says behind me.
I turn on the stool. Noel stands there with his arms across his chest as he stares at the back of Striker’s head.
My eyes flick to Striker, and he shakes his head as he turns around and stands. He chugs the last of his beer and sits the bottle on the counter, like he’s in no hurry. “No, mate. I’ve got all I need right here.” He pats the front pocket he slid my number into and promptly turns his attention to me. “Lanie, love, it’s been charming. We’ll be in touch.”
Striker shoulders past Noel without another look in his direction and blends into the crowd of people in the club.