Why do you hate fun? Amara was looking at Jane’s back, where she sat next to the driver taking them from the concert venue to the nearby club for the after-party. Russel had remained silent since their interrupted exchange at the end of the show, not even asking where they were headed as they climbed in the car. Amara wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Clubbing isn’t something he would do. She wanted to tell him, to ask if he wanted to get taken on to the hotel for the night. But she was afraid he would say yes. How did I get so attached already?

Russel did smile when his cat appeared, leaping over Jane’s seat at the front to climb over him before settling on his lap. And he had left one hand out to rest on the seat between them.

When Amara took that as invitation to grab it, Katana hissed and swatted her hand, claws out. Russel looked apologetic, giving the cat a gentle swat of her own. Amara wrapped her hand around his anyway and when a couple strikes didn’t dislodge it the cat subsided to occasional hisses her direction. She concentrated on the reassurance of the contact and tried to ignore the sting of that rejection. It’s a freaking kitten. Calm down Amara.

"Best not let the press find out cats hate you."

Amara stuck her tongue out at Jane in the mirror.  Russel squeezed her hand with his, and she felt better.  Still left the issue of the of the club.

Her previous boyfriends had all been of the celebrity set. While they always spent their time together together, it rarely ran into their respective work. She’d not had the option of having her partner with her at the after party before. Never bothered by that either. So why did she want Russel there now? She’d rescued him, what, three days ago? Maybe just two?

The ride lasted minutes. Not long enough. It barely came to a stop before the door next to her was opened by one of her guard detail. Amara looked sidelong at her seat-mate. Russel had settled into the corner between the seat and the window when they got in and hadn’t moved much. Katana was still watching her from his lap. Amara squeezed his hand, hoping for some reassurance.

“So,”

Russel sat up, eyes open and watching her attentively before the single syllable finished leaving her mouth. Amara winced and wondered that she wanted to shy away.

“This isn’t the hotel. I usually attend… well, sort of an after-party that always seems to happen at the nearest club when I sing in big cities.”

“Okay.”

Russel’s tone gave nothing away of how he felt about that revelation. Amara refused to wince again, forcing herself to look him in the eye. She was ignoring the calls and attention outside, including Jane standing there tapping an impatient foot. She didn’t have to see, or hear it to know that was happening.

“Yeah. Will you,” I feel like I’m a middle-schooler with a crush instead of the 30 year old pop star I am. What the hex? “Come in with me?”

“You want,” he spoke slowly, leaning forward with eyes wide. “To be seen. With me? What do I do with Katana?”

“Jane would let me die before that thing at this point.” He’s deflecting. Aw choke cherries. “So, what do you say?”

“I’m definitely not dressed to…”

Amara took that for as close to a ‘yes’ as she was going to get. Before he had a chance to adjust her conclusion, she moved.  Wrapping both hands around his wrist, ignoring the fresh protests from the cat, she hauled backwards toward the open door. Out they came. Russel was quick enough that instead of hitting the pavement she hit his arm across her lower back before he hauled them both to their feet.

Seizing the opportunity she snaked an arm around his waist and cocked a leg to possessively hook his calf as the flash of cameras and screaming peaked. By Mother and all her siblings what am I doing?

This tour was still fairly fresh news. Climbing out of her car and onto a man outside the club like this- the world would know in less than 24 hours. Jane is going to kill me. Not that she did anything to stop me bringing him. What Amara didn’t anticipate was the warmth and stability she felt from Russel. Here she was publicly outing him as, for all intents and purposes, hers with little warning after maybe two days of interaction.  He was holding her, going with it.

Amara didn’t dare to see his expression as she unwound herself and stepped toward the door. It was painfully awkward for a moment as they figured out a pace. He’s sticking with me. In the moment, that was all that mattered to her heart. Even as her head cycled through the many reasons what she just did, and was doing now, were a bad idea, she was giddy from the close contact. By all the schools of witchcraft, what is going on with me?

With a mental shrug, she remembered where they were. Turning her patented starlet smile on the crowd, Amara lifted her chin and strode inside. I wonder how long it will take before they figure out his name. Already questions for and about her companion assaulted them from the watching throng.

Amara allowed herself a single covert glance up at Russel at the door. And had to resist the urge to double-take. He was smiling, nodding and waving at fans like it was the most natural thing in the world. He’s putting on a show. For my sake? That led her to a new question, one she didn’t like to think of at all.

What isn’t he doing for my sake? Russel had little choice in coming with them. She hadn’t really given him a chance to voice an opinion since she asked him to dinner. Did he even want to be around her, much less being trotted out as her boyfriend in front of a club packed by her fans? He wouldn’t have left his hand for me back there if he wasn’t at least a little interested, right? Unless he knew he wouldn’t be able to say it convincingly with words because he isn’t feeling it.

This was shaping up to be the most complicated club visit she had ever had. Even counting the time someone let loose a flock of live birds inside the building. Russel leaned in close, sending a shiver down her spine as his breath tickled her ear.

“I’m not much good at dancing either. Sorry in advance.”

She squeezed his waist as she whispered back through her smile.

“There will only ever be a handful of bodies around us, pre-screened by the security. You stick to me and you’ll do fine.”

More than fine, as far as she was concerned. As long as he was close, she found she didn’t really care what the world thought of him. Let ‘em wonder.

She gave Russel another squeeze and went to add a peck on the cheek. Pouted on discovering him walking straight again, forcing her to hop to reach. I keep picking tall ones. Not that that’s hard, considering. She increased her pace, pulling away but catching Russel’s hand as she pulled him onto the cordoned square of dance floor. Too much thinking. Let’s actually have fun.