The music spewed louder and amid the fetid smell of beer and the throng, Navaya's head began to spin. But she waited, just like she was told. Becca was coming to pick her up. She stared around the club, trying to scout out her bestie. Then she fixed her gaze at the entrance, eyes drooping. She stifled a yawn.
Becca promised to—
Her thoughts were snapped in half by the sight of a silhouette, barely visible to her insobriety in the dim lights of the club. Tall, broad shoulders— coming from the entrance. Utterly male.
Definitely not Becca.
