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Nathan
I’m nervous.
Not sure why that is, but there you have it—I’m fucking nervous.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen Lottie since the Winter Ball.
Or maybe it’s because I can still feel her warm lips pressed against mine.
Whatever the reason, I can’t help but have all this nervous energy bubbling inside me, threatening to combust at any second if I go another minute without seeing her beautiful face.
Texts alone don’t cut it anymore. Not by a long shot.
I just need to see her.
Once I do, I know her smile will calm the storm brewing inside me.
It always does.
When I arrive at the bar, it’s already crowded with partygoers, all here to celebrate Piper’s twenty-fifth birthday. The room is a mix of various athletes, work colleagues, and whatI assume to be her close personal friends from way back in the day.
But the only friend I’m interested in seeing tonight is Lottie, and so far, there’s no sign of her anywhere.
“Wilder!” Jack shouts from across the bar, with Erin and Caleb standing at his side.
I make a beeline towards them, thankful that they’re here so I won’t have to stand in a corner all by myself.
I’m not good at meeting new people.
Fuck, I’m not good with people in general.
So, it’s nice to see the familiar faces of my friends and know that at least I have them to have my back if anything goes awry.
Lord knows the last time I was in a bar, things didn’t work out so well for me.
Hmm.
Though if I hadn’t gotten myself in that shitstorm of a situation, I probably would have never met Lottie either. And I’m not sure how to feel about that.
Just the idea of not having her in my life makes me sick to my stomach.
Fuck.
I got it bad, don’t I?
“There’s the man of the hour!” Erin gushes, hugging me in greeting.
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“Oh, don’t play coy with me, handsome. Jack told me how you went to bat for the team against what’s his name!” she praises.
“His name is Lawrence Preston III, love. It’s best we remember it since he’s probably going to be our future boss,” Jack jokes, draping his arm over his wife’s shoulders.
“Lawrence Preston III,” Caleb pronounces the name as if it tasted funny on the tip of the tongue. “Even his name sounds pretentious.”
“He didn’t seem so bad to me.” I shrug.
“We’ll see.” Jack frowns, not as easily convinced. “I did my homework on the guy, and from what I could gather, his family is known for buying things, breaking them apart, and selling off everything to make a quick buck. I’m not sure he won’t do the same thing to us.”
