Commitment by Nia Forrester

Tracy said.
    “How ‘bout you? You feel like going to a club?” Shawn asked leaning in closer to Riley.
    “Whatever you would normally do.”
    Brendan laughed. “Oh, we couldn’t take you along for what we normally do,” he said.
    Shawn gave him a look. “We could hang out for a couple hours and then head back to the hotel,” he said to Riley.
    As far as she was concerned they could skip the club altogether, but there was Tracy to entertain . Under the table, Shawn was bouncing his leg up and down. He was still coming down from the high of the show and had excess energy not yet expended. He fidgeted with her hand, turning it over, looking at his fingers intertwined with hers, then idly traced circles in her palm while glancing at the menu. Riley smiled and pulled away, gently placing her hand over his and just like that, he was still.
    “Where are you guys headed after this?” Tracy asked.
    “Seattle.” Shawn didn’t look up, still studying the menu. 
    “Big hip-hop following in Seattle?” Tracy asked , taking a sip of her champagne.
    “Haven’t you heard?” Shawn said evenly . “There’s a big hip-hop following everywhere.”
    Riley stifled a smile.
    After two bottles of champagne were done and they’d made their way through what seemed like dozens of rolls of sushi, Riley was actually looking forward to the club. The drinks had loosened everyone up and Tracy even seemed to have lost interest in picking on Shawn . Instead, she was engaging in a little tipsy flirtation with Brendan who was eating up every moment of it.
    When they pulled up in front of the club, there was a huge crowd and paparazzi snapping pictures of anyone even marginally famous as they went in. 
    “Pull around to the side, man.” Shawn tapped the driver on his shoulder.
    “Why?” Tracy asked. “Then we won’t get the full on L.A. vibe.”
    “Pull around to the side,” Shawn insisted.
    The driver maneuvered the SUV around the corner and into an alleyway. After Brendan made a quick call, someone came out of a door obscured by darkness to usher them in.
    In no time they were seated in a semi-private area of the exclusive nightclub, sipping drinks and watching L.A.’s glitterati at play. Riley had never seen so many beautiful women in one place before – not even in Manhattan where beautiful people seemed to sprout from the sidewalks. In her jeans and black top, she must look positively dowdy next to them.
    To make matters worse, Shawn was suddenly keeping his distance, sitting at the other end of the sofa, his head bopping to the music. Riley watched him for a few moments out of the corner of her eye , but h e seemed oblivious to the women who walked by their cordoned off VIP section, just happening to slow down, flip their hair or drop something precisely as they entered his line of sight. This was probably his standard nightclub experience . Riley leaned back and exhaled sharply .
    Of course it was; he was a rap star .
    His fame and all that came along with it had always seemed so far removed from what went on between them in the quiet, dark hotel suites. In those rooms, there was just the two of them – Shawn’s hand on her face, her lips on his and the rest of the world ceased to exist.
    But here, it was being thrust into their faces and though he seemed perfectly capable of ignoring it, she was not. Watching the parade of women walk by making eyes in his direction, Riley felt a strange hot ball form in the pit of her stomach and rise into her chest.
    “Tracy,” she leaned over toward her friend. “Let’s go dance.”
    Tracy shrugged and tossed her purse aside, getting up and reaching out to hold her hand. Riley allowed herself to be dragged onto the dance floor where they spun and moved together, the way they had when they were in college and date-less at a party.
    Tracy’s head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she disappeared in the music. Riley did the same, turning herself completely over to the beat. After