by K. A. Linde
“Two,” Chyna told her.
Adam approached the podium and poked her in the side once more for payback. She turned and glared at him.
He smiled brightly at the woman with that ever-present grin on his face. “We don’t need food though. Can we just go to the bar?”
“Of course, sir,” she said demurely, directing them to follow her.
They passed three large rooms with low tables and chairs topped with cushions that matched the host’s sari. Food was served in circular aluminum bowls in the center of the table, and the guests were scooping directly out of the communal pots or adding food to a separate plate. The whole place smelled sweet and fragrant like flowers mixed with honey. The host took a turn to her right and pulled back a deep crimson curtain.
“Here you are,” she said, allowing them access to the bar area.
They both thanked her as they passed through the curtain into a different world.
The hookah lounge itself was made up of several adjoining rooms separated by sheer curtains. The perimeter had cushioned alcoves with curtains that closed around the area, allowing a bit more privacy. All over the room, pillows and chaises in deep burgundy, navy, purple, and orange were pressed together for couples to lounge on. Hookahs in various colors were sitting atop white tables. A faint fog already clouded the room, and Chyna realized the aroma she had smelled before was the mixture of all the various hookah flavors blending together.
“Come on. Let’s head to the back,” Adam said, taking her hand and walking through the already crowded room.
They found an empty alcove and took over the space. It was bigger than she had expected with room enough for five or six people rather than the two she had been anticipating. Adam deposited her there and then went in search of the bar. He returned a couple minutes later with her martini and a beer in hand.
“I ordered our hookah, too. They should be bringing it over.”
“What flavor did you get?” she asked.
“Apple,” he said with a shrug. “The guy said it was popular. We can try something else if you want.”
“No, apple is fine,” she said, reaching for her martini hungrily.
Alcohol was such a good idea. It made her forget things, and tonight, she really wanted to forget things.
A few minutes later, a waiter showed up with a bright green hookah and their apple selection. Adam tipped the guy and then went about his business setting up the shisha for them. When he finished, Chyna leaned forward, her navy spaghetti-strap dress revealing ample amounts of cleavage. She took a drag off of the hookah, winking at Adam. She breathed out the smoke and then licked her lips, surprised by how refreshing the faint hint of apple was. Adam followed suit, breathing the smoke out.
Then, he started digging into his pocket. “I’m going to take this,” he said, taking a sip of his beer before he pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he yelled over the music and people talking in the establishment. “I can’t really hear you!”
“Yeah, that’s better!” he yelled back into the phone.
Chyna looked over at him expectantly, enjoying the mixture of the tobacco and vodka in her stomach.
“Sure. You’re finished already?”
Chyna’s ears perked up. Excuse me? Who was done early?
“Yeah, come on over. We just got a hookah.”
Who was he talking to?
“I don’t remember. Hold on,” he said into the phone before glancing back up at Chyna. “What’s the name of this place again?”
Her throat constricted when she went to answer, and she had to take another sip of her martini. It didn’t help much because her throat wasn’t reacting to the smoke. “Sulgaana Hookah Lounge.”
Adam repeated that into the phone and then hung up. “John is on his way over,” he told her. “He said his dinner plans ended early, and he would rather hang out with us tonight.”
With a shiver running down her spine, Chyna swallowed again, her throat tight. She slurped down her martini like it was her life force. “I…uh…think I need another,” she said, standing.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
He was in such a good mood from their evening together, and now, his brother was on his way. Chyna had never met anyone who liked his sibling so much.
“There’s a waiter.” He called the guy over and ordered another round of drinks for them, not letting her leave their little niche. He rested backward into the cushioned seat.
“So,” Adam began, taking another pull from the hookah, “you have fun last night?”
“Yeah.” Chyna shrugged.
“I was surprised you were in before me. I didn’t finish the project until two, but I wasn’t expecting you until at least three or four,” he said with an easy smile.
Nonchalantly, she said, “Just an early night, I guess.”
“I didn’t know you had those,” he said innocently.
“Sometimes.”
“Thank you for dragging John out with you.” Adam crossed his leg over his knee at his ankle and slung one arm across the back of the booth. “I know he’s my older brother, but we’re only two years apart. I guess I took care of him for long enough that it’s kind of natural.”
“Why did you have to take care of him? He seems like a big boy,” Chyna said.
“Too smart for his own good. He always thought he could get away with murder.” Adam laughed.
“He probably could,” Chyna said under her breath.
“Anyway, he was a party animal in high school and college. He’s cut back drastically since taking this job. I probably shouldn’t try to keep taking care of him. He has a good head on his shoulders.”
“You’re a good brother.” Chyna swallowed.
Adam chuckled softly. “Thanks. I know John didn’t always deserve it, but I love him. It’s kind of like how you are with Lexi.”
“Yeah, she’s basically my sister,” Chyna said, doing anything to grasp on to a new line of conversation. “Bitch needs some serious therapy, but I’d do anything for her.”
Both of them started laughing because, really, no one could deny that.
“There you guys are,” John said, rounding the corner unexpectedly. “What’s so funny?”
“Hey,” Adam said, standing and making room for his brother.
Chyna’s eyes went to John. He was in crisp, black dress pants and a white button-up shirt with the top button undone for a more casual look. When he glanced in her direction, she diverted her eyes.
“We were just talking about Chyna’s friend, Lexi.”
“The one who left for the week?” he asked with a curious glance in her direction.
Chyna nodded and tried not to look at him. “Yeah.”
“You made it over here fast,” Adam mused, moving closer to Chyna to give John room to sit down.
“Yeah, there’s not that much traffic yet tonight. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought some friends along. After I told them where we were going, they insisted,” John said with a smile as his friends walked into the nook. “This is Nitya, Trey, and Darius. Trey and Darius work with me at Global.”
He volunteered the information for those two but left out an explanation for the woman that was with him. That immediately drew Chyna’s eyes to her. She was Indian with gorgeous dark-caramel skin, thick, long black hair with natural body, and almost unnatural blue eyes. She was exotically beautiful and clothed in an eye-catching red dress. Nitya smiled at them before taking a seat next to Adam.
“No problem at all. Nice to meet you,” Adam said, promptly standing and shaking the two guys’ hands. “I’m Adam, John’s brother. This is my girlfriend, Chyna.”
Chyna just smiled at them. Trey was a medium build guy with short blonde hair, and he was wearing a navy suit. He was everything she expected from a Global employee. In fact, he looked like he had the superiority complex to boot. Or, is it a Napoleonic complex? The guy next him, Darius, was a tall, skinny African American man with a perfect smile
that was contagious.
They all filed into the booth. The room was already filling up, and they now had a party of five when she had been expecting just the two of them. She couldn’t help noticing how close John sat next to Nitya when they all sat down.
“So, how do you know each other?” Chyna asked. She couldn’t believe she had even opened her mouth.
“Nitya was at Harvard when I was getting my MBA,” John told Chyna with a smirk.
Nitya rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it sound so amazing,” she said. “I was just getting an art history degree. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Harvard is a big deal,” Trey said, shaking his head.
“Not to someone who went there,” Darius said, elbowing him in the side with a big full-watt smile.
“All right, guys,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like I’m the MET curator or anything. I still sell shitty paintings every day.”
“They’re not shitty,” John said, his hand touching her arm in a way that Chyna was all too familiar with.
She narrowed her eyes at the movement. Then, he caught her looking at him, so she turned her attention to Adam, who was too busy with the hookah to pay attention.
“Do you…paint?” Chyna asked, breaking the private moment.
“Some, but I’m shit. And, don’t you say otherwise,” she said, pointing at John. “I work for a small art gallery as a viewer doing appraisals for their collection.”
“That’s pretty cool actually,” Chyna said disappointed. That was actually really cool.
She hated these moments. She didn’t regret not going to college because she got more partying done in New York, and she didn’t have to deal with the whole school aspect. But, she had never had anything she could really call hers like this Nitya chick.
“And, your paintings aren’t shit. I’ve seen the inside of your studio,” John said with a smirk.
Nitya giggled and leaned into him like they were sharing a private joke. When, in fact, their joke wasn’t all that private. It was obvious what he was saying.
Trey, obviously not picking up on what John was saying, spoke up. “Yeah, I agree. I’ve seen some of your work. I’d love to see your studio though.”
Was this guy that dense? The only one seeing inside her studio was fucking her, and Trey certainly wasn’t.
The subject switched to business, and Chyna pulled back from the conversation. She didn’t want to be involved, and she didn’t want to have to think. Adam ordered her another drink, and the table got a round of tequila shots. She veered away from the alcohol. She’d had too good of a time last night, and she didn’t want to make herself look worse by imbibing way more than she could handle.
Instead of taking the shot, she checked her phone to see if Frederick had ever responded to her text messages. Just when she was about to get up to give him a call, he texted back.
Dallas called. Sorry, chicky.
Chyna groaned, throwing her phone back into her purse. She took a drag on the hookah and could feel a slight buzz from both the alcohol and tobacco already. The sweet aroma was deceiving because it was already making her tingly in a way that alcohol never did anymore. It was nice.
“Are you still meeting up with Frederick?” Adam asked, standing. He was completely confident on his feet.
Had he even been drinking that much? Chyna hadn’t really been paying that much attention.
“He cancelled,” she told him, resting her head back against the cushion.
Adam bent down and kissed her forehead. “Maybe you should take it easy.”
“I’m fine!” she said defensively, sitting up straight. She hadn’t had that much after all. “Will you get another hookah while you’re up?”
Adam sighed with a nod. “Anyone else need anything?”
Trey and Darius nodded. “We’ll come with you.” The three guys walked away to get more drinks for the table.
“Ah! Two wonderful, beautiful women,” John said, his speech showing the signs of alcohol. He smiled that devious smile in Chyna’s direction and crawled over Nitya to sit in between the two women.
“John! Watch it!” Nitya cried as he caught her leg when he scooted across her.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning Nitya with his finger.
She glanced over at Chyna and then moved closer to him. He threw his arm across her shoulders and kissed her temple. Chyna watched him whisper something into her ear, and Nitya giggled, her eyes flickering to Chyna again.
Despite everything, her stomach was clenching in anger and frustration. This was a fucking ridiculous display and she wanted it to stop. She wasn’t thinking coherently. She knew that he’d had his hands on her last night and now they were running up and down this bitch. It hadn’t been right…even if they had just been dancing, but come on!
“Are you sure?” Nitya asked. John nodded and trailed his finger across her bottom lip where she was biting it. Nitya sighed pleasantly before turning her attention back to Chyna. She crooked her finger at her. Chyna furrowed her eyebrows together, but she was too jealous not to find out what she wanted. How did John have this much pull over her? She couldn’t explain it, but she scooted across the chaise anyway.
Her body pressed almost completely into John. The warmth radiating off of him mixed with her curiosity was intoxicating. Nitya leaned forward, pressing her hand into John’s thigh, as she moved only an inch away from Chyna’s face.
Chyna sat very still, realizing where this was going. This was probably a bad idea. She should move, but her eyes couldn’t even break away from Nitya’s, who was holding Chyna’s gaze with such intensity that it was hard to even think about pulling back to see what John was thinking. She had a damn good guess.
Then, John’s hand landed on the small of her back, and she froze in place. She couldn’t have moved even if she had wanted to. It was like a magnetic force was in the air, holding them all at his touch. Her mind rushed back to the night before, and her eyes fluttered closed. His fingers moved softly against her skin, easing any apprehension she might have had.
She couldn’t even fight it when Nitya’s lips landed on hers. She felt soft and foreign against her own. She tasted like the apple hookah and lip-gloss. Nitya wasn’t the first girl Chyna had ever kissed, but this felt different. Her tongue flicked out and trailed across her bottom lip. She heard a groan come from John, and something about the pure sensuality of it made her want to continue. Chyna opened her mouth and allowed Nitya to deepen the kiss, finding her tongue and running along it. Almost as soon as it started, they broke apart.
Chyna’s heart was pounding out of her chest, and she realized how turned on she was. She didn’t even think it was from the kiss either. It was because he was watching, and he was still touching her.
“Fuck,” she whispered, staring into Nitya’s blue eyes.
The girl giggled and ducked her head.
“Fuck is right,” John said in a strained whisper.
At the sound of his voice, Chyna felt like she had woken up from a dream. Her eyes moved from Nitya to John, and she clenched her jaw. What the fuck was she doing? And why was she always thinking that when she was around him?
She slowly scooted away from them, unable to believe what she had just done. What had possessed her to kiss that girl? She seriously felt like she had been possessed because she wasn’t even that drunk.
John laughed into Nitya’s hair when Chyna moved away from them, and Nitya shared in his humor as he nuzzled her neck. Chyna felt feral at that point. She was fighting her own instincts. On one hand, she wanted to push Nitya out of the way and have her way with John. On the other hand, she wanted to punch him in the face for playing with her. He was teasing her purposely, and he was damn good at it. She was furious, horny, jealous, and frustrated. Goddamn man!
Adam returned a minute later with the other guys, complaining about long lines at the bar and shitty service. Chyna had a hard time paying attention. She had too much else on her mind.
The nig
ht dragged on with John keeping up practically the entirety of the conversation. It was like a light had been switched on, and his full charm had taken over. She didn’t know if it was the amount of alcohol in his system or if her kiss with Nitya had something to do with it. Whatever it was, Adam seemed to ease into the change, which made Chyna think that the switch was his normal personality—the guy that Adam had talked about before Global came into his life.
Even she ended up relaxing as he took over. She just wanted to erase whatever had happened while Adam had been gone, accept his brother for the charmer he was, and have a good time. Yet, as much as she wanted them to, the events that had transpired last night and what had just happened with Nitya couldn’t just go away. She needed to tell Adam. She hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he needed to know.
“Ugh,” Nitya cried, swiping at her eyes. “Is it really one-thirty in the morning? I have to work in a couple of hours.”
“Fuck, me, too,” Trey said, elbowing Darius to get out of the booth.
“I have to work, too,” Darius said, sloppily standing and reaching for something to steady himself.
“You guys should take a cab,” Adam told them. He was hardly even tipsy.
How had she not noticed that he wasn’t drinking that much? Or was he was just holding his liquor better than everyone else at the table? She was tipsy, but she didn’t think she was over the edge. She had yet to stand up though.
Nitya stood, wavered, and then crumpled back onto the edge of the booth. She started giggling uncontrollably. “I can’t stand up. Oh my God!”
“Do you need help?” John asked, standing and then immediately sitting back down.
“Yes!” she muttered, her head flopping backward. “I can’t feel my lips.”
Adam shook his head as if he knew that this would happen all along. “Come on. I’ll help you guys to the cab,” he said, scooting around John to help Nitya up. “Chyna, are we taking your town car?”
She nodded, her eyes heavy. It had been a long night, and she couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment, even if she did have to talk to Adam.
