I kept on looking around, putting the Russian out of my head. The two soul mates, Eli and Mase, were nowhere to be found. Carter was back before I knew it, with a small clear glass in one hand, and a larger glass in another, holding it out in my direction.

“Thank you,” I mouthed to him.

We stood there for a few minutes, and he walked around with me until we found a small, unoccupied table close the bathrooms. We sat there, sipping on our drinks for a couple of songs before I spotted Eli cutting through the mass of bodies on the LED dance floor and heading straight toward us.

He was holding his hands out in front of him, pretty much dangling his tongue out of his mouth while making the dumbest face I'd ever seen—his normal one. To top it off he was shimmying his shoulders.

I was already laughing by the time he made it to the table, and I slid off the seat, knowing it was pointless to fight with him. Turning to Carter, I held my hand out in his direction. “Come on!” I yelled with a big grin.

He shook his head.

“You sure?” I asked still practically screaming.

He gave me a thumbs-up with a smile.

Carter had already mentioned to me that he had an allergy to dancing, so I wasn’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to. I hated when people did that to me. I gave him an “if you say so” shrug and followed Eli’s big butt out to the floor.

Eliza started tutting—Egyptian-like dance moves—when we stopped in the middle of the floor with “Walk Like an Egyptian” blaring over the speakers. I mirrored his moves, laughing my ass off the entire time. One song turned into four while we danced in front of each other, our moves getting more and more outrageous as the eighties songs kept coming. The half of a drink I had guzzled probably helped.

I couldn't help but wonder why the hell TCC’s record label had brought them to an eighties club, but I didn't care. I loved dancing, but only when I could act like an uninhibited idiot without worrying about everyone judging me. The next thing I knew, Mason booty-bumped me from behind before backing his ass up into my stomach for a few songs.

I pushed Mason out of the way when he started trying to sandwich himself between me and some random brunette on the dance floor. A hand brushed my ass as I wiggled my way through the crowd, and I whacked it away the second it came in contact with me. I'd barely stepped off the floor when I saw Sacha in… oh merciful God. Of all the things in the world he had to wear… He had on suspenders—suspenders!—over a shirt that was somewhere between pink and purple, and slim black jeans. He stood a few feet away facing the dance floor, talking to a shorter man with glasses.

TCC’s singer smiled the second he realized I spotted him and waved me over. The thought of pretending I hadn’t seen him didn’t occur to me. We were friends and friends didn’t ignore each other, I told myself, even as his eyes swept across my frame as I walked toward him. Yeah, I tugged my dress down.

"Gaby," he breathed into my ear when I stopped next to him. His hand reached out to land on the small of my back, and I had to fight the urge to react.

Good lord, was I that starved for attention I was getting excited over having a hand on the small of my back?

Yes. Yes, I was.

"Hi," the smaller man spat out in a shout.

I waved at the stranger and held out my hand to him. "Hi, I'm Gaby."

“Dennis, beautiful!” He shook my hand for a second too long and smiled, all small, flat white teeth out to say hello.

I'd gone months without a single freaking compliment, but now I dressed like a prostitute and suddenly everyone was appreciative of me. Oh fucking well. I would take what I could get. "It’s nice to meet you!" I hollered with a big grin.