Impress me

Quinn's pov:

I stand leaning back in front of the bar, pretending like I have every right to be here. That is the very first lie.

I don’t do clubs. At least not ones as sophisticated as this. It screams wealth and money and sin. I feel way out of place.

When I received info from Chief earlier today that there was a new lead on the Salvatore gang, I knew it would hardly lead anywhere and I was right.

There is nothing uncommon about this place. It looks exactly like what it is supposed to be, a well-established club.

I am not naive enough to not know what could be happening within these walls, but I also know that even if a raid were to happen now, we would not find anything. That is how careful they are.

Even the air feels expensive, like it has been filtered through money before it reaches my lungs.

From what I know about the Nora Club, it is owned by some business mogul. A man as clean as a white sheet of paper.

Pretentious, but still…

I let my eyes do what they always do in unfamiliar environments.

Look for the exits first.

I can see three visible ones. One behind the bar, one near the corridor, and one near the private section, guarded by two men who are not pretending to be anything else.

Tsk.

That is where any real information would be found, but I would not be worth an invite even if I were to be sold.

Money.

I sigh.

There is security everywhere. Not obvious, but years of training have me picking up the cues. Too much to know this is a very owned space.

I adjust my grip on my wallet, more out of habit than necessity, thinking about how it would feel to be in control of so much wealth.

My gaze shifts from pillar to post, watching, honestly intrigued.

That is when it happens. I feel the slight shift in the air. It presses against me like a change in temperature, and I slow without meaning to.

Someone is watching me. I lift my eyes and I see a man at the side of the club.

His face hidden in the shadows.

He stands slightly apart, near a section that is not quite private but clearly not public either. A man whispering into his ears.

My breath catches as his gaze goes through me, his eyes darkening. My whole body heats up, and I quickly look past him.

What the hell?

I turn my back facing the bar. The gears in my head turning. Why does he look so familiar?.

I turn back again and his eyes are already on me. There is no expression on his face, he could be staring at a statue.

I blink and I see him suddenly move.

The man by his side moving with him.

Wait… Why does it seem like he's moving towards me?

Is this the syndicate’s head? My more rational side kicks in.

Have they discovered who I am? I dismiss the thought immediately. There is nothing strange about me being here. Cop or not.

I stare at him as he gets closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I straighten slightly, trying to make myself seem taller.

I side-eye my surroundings, checking if there is someone else behind me as he stops right in front of me.

His gaze lingers on me for a moment. Was he checking me out?

His dark eyes pins me in place as his black hair falls slightly over his face. Handsome, my mind supplies and I shake my head slightly at the ridiculous thought.

My gaze drops to his mouth and immediately snaps back up when his lips tilt slightly.

Then a brow raises as the man behind him says, “Do you have something to say? If not, step aside.”

I freeze and realize in horror that I'm standing on the wrong side of the bar, the ordering side.

Oh God.

Heat rushes to my face as I step away quickly. “Sorry,” I mutter, wishing I could disappear.

“Cute,” I hear him say, followed by a low snicker.

His voice…goes through me making me shudder. What is wrong with me today?

Wait, did he just call me cute?

I turn back, watching as he leans over the counter, ordering a drink. Walk away, I tell myself. Move your legs. I don't though, just stand there staring like a fool.

“You look lost, he suddenly says, his gaze moving to me. “You don't come here often, do you?”.

“Why do you say that?”. I ask my voice small.

“Ah it's a bit obvious, you look like you don't belong here”.

“I could say the same,” I reply.

Immediately feeling stupid. Of course he belongs here. He literally looks made for the place.

His friend, guard, whatever, shifts behind him. I am making a fool of myself.

“I should leave…”

“No.” That single word makes me pause.

“Relax,” he says lightly, almost amused. “I don’t bite.”

Is that a smirk? Is this flirting?

“Should I feel honored?” I ask and something like a smile touches his lips but does not fully form.

“Not really,” he says, turning fully to me now. “It should be a privilege.”

Wait… What?

“You looked like you had something to say,” he continues. “Impress me.”

My jaw drops. Who does he think he is?

“I’m not here to impress you,” I say, exasperated.

I turn to leave. His hands clasp around my wrist. “Stay,” he says. “Drink with me.”

You cannot be serious. “No, thank you.” His eyes move over me slowly like he's assessing me.

“You look tense. Come. Let’s talk. Is there something wrong with the club?”

I stare at him more carefully now. Okay it's time to go.

“Are you not aware of how loud you are in a place like this?”

“I’m not loud,” I say, letting out a small nervous laugh. I drag my wrist out of his hands. The warmth disappears alongside.

“You are to me.”

“And who exactly are you?” He tilts his head slightly.

“That depends on who’s asking.”

“I am.” He smiles a little at that.

“Ronan.”

I test it. “Ronan what?”

He laughes again this time amused. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”

“I know where I am.”

He steps a little closer. “Then tell me.”

This is stupid. The name of the club is everywhere. He must see something on my face because he laughs, low and deep. The sound does something to me.

“You’re in my club,” he says.

Oh. “Okay...” I reply. Is he… showing off?

“So you understand why I would care if you had any problems with it.”

“I don't, your club is amazing,” I say honestly meaning it.

“What’s your name?” he asks suddenly. The change of topic surprising me.

“Jake,” I give lying through my teeth and he raises a brow like he knows.

“Do I know you?” I ask quickly.

He suddenly steps back breaking whatever was happening. “You should go home now,” he says. “Come back another time.”

The finality in his voice almost makes me scoff. “Yeah… well…” I turn, already done with the night.

“You will, won’t you, Jake?” The way he says the name sounds mocking.

I frown wondering what exactly is his deal. “That’s for me to decide.”

“Yes. It is.” He walks past me now, drink in hand.

I watch him as he moves into the private section, my mind spinning.

What… was that?

“Till next time… Quinn.” My entire body goes still.

Wait, did he just call me by my name?