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3
I stared at my reflection in the full-length bathroom mirror. I was wearing only a thin pair of boxers, aware now more than ever how much my body lacked the definition that Brayden and many of the other males here had. I was pale, the result of spending my days and nights holed up studying instead of being out playing sports or heading to the beaches for a rare sunny day, and thinner than I’d like, which stemmed from being a broke schmuck.
There were two things going for me at that moment—one, it was dark, so my flaws wouldn’t exactly be under a microscope or glaring lights, and two, the shots were starting to kick in, dulling my self-conscious thoughts.
You don’t have to do anything, I reminded myself. Well, unless you want to. Hell, maybe I would want to. I thought back to the last time I’d gotten laid, and when I realized how many months had passed, I vowed never to let that bit of info on to Brayden. Bastard would never let me live it down.
Straightening my shoulders, I gave myself one last once-over and tucked my clothes under my arm, trying not to think about how ridiculous I looked. Do I carry my stuff around? Do we get lockers? How does all this work? That was what I chose to preoccupy my mind with instead of focusing on how I was about to go downstairs and—
Stop, stop. Jesus. I pushed open the door and quickly strode over to the stairwell just across the hall, but before I could head down them, a large security guard blocked my path.
“I’m afraid I need you to come with me,” he said.
Frowning, I said, “Actually, I need to get downstairs to meet a friend of mine—”
“That won’t be possible. Your time at the Wolfe’s Den has come to an end. Now, if you’ll follow me…”
As the guard took a hold of my arm, I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm and unyielding.
“Look, I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” I said, continuing to struggle. “I haven’t done anything.” Quite literally anything.
But he wasn’t listening as he dragged me across the room back to where I’d come from. What the hell is going on? Why am I getting kicked out? Did that King guy do something?
“Can I at least put my clothes back on first?” I said as we started up the staircase that led to the first level of the club. But the guard stayed infuriatingly silent, towing me along like I was nothing more than a puppet.
Shit, Brayden was gonna be so pissed. He’d think I left on purpose.
Instead of coming out onto the first level like I expected, the guard made a sharp right, pushing through a door I hadn’t even noticed was there. The narrow hall was pitch-black, and suddenly, my adrenaline spiked. There I was, in a strange club with a strange man forcing me through a strange back way to…what? I didn’t have a good feeling about whatever it was. My heart began to pound overtime and my breath came out in quick pants. Somehow, I found my voice, though.
“Could you please tell me what’s going on here and where you’re taking me?”
As expected, he didn’t bother answering that, but before I could speak up again, he pushed through another door, and just like that, I was back in the small foyer where this crazy night had all began.
Blinking, I looked up at the man behind the desk, the one who’d taken our personal belongings, and he narrowed his eyes at me, probably wondering what I’d done to get unceremoniously tossed on my ass already. I’d love to know myself.
As the guard let go of my arm, he turned to head back inside, but shit, I needed to get word to Brayden.
“Could you please get my friend, Brayden, or tell him where I am so he can—”
The door slammed shut behind the guard, and my shoulders slumped in defeat. I didn’t understand what I’d done or why I was standing in the lobby half-naked—
Oh, shit, I was still naked. I quickly got dressed, thankful in that moment for the small mercy of not having to walk through the crowd on the first level in nothing but my boxers. When I’d shrugged back into my suit jacket, the man behind the desk held out the lockbox. I laid my finger over the sensor, the box unlocked, and I grabbed my personal items and shoved them into my pockets. No sooner had I done that than I was pushed out the front door, back out into the mist and gloom of a late night in Westport.
This is officially going down as the strangest night of my life. Maybe Brayden had snuck something into my drink and I was hallucinating. That would make more sense than anything else that’d happened.
