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“For fuck’s sake, one isn’t going to kill you. We kicked ass. We had a great tour, so let’s fucking celebrate,” Harry insisted. He set one of the shots in front of Sax, who shrugged and gulped it down. “Was that so hard?”
I reached for mine. Closing my eyes, I drank it, gasping as the smooth liquid burned my throat. Ugh. I hated whiskey. Sax chuckled next to me until I raised my eyebrows at him.
“You drink like a girl,” he explained.
“So do you,” I shot back. “Maybe you’d prefer a Cosmopolitan, or a Sex on the Beach?” I teased.
“The last one doesn’t sound so bad,” he said softly. I rolled my eyes.
After a couple more drinks, Sax winked at me and nodded his head toward the exit.
“At the risk of sounding old, I think I’m going to have an early night.”
“Weak,” Harry mumbled, knocking back another shot. “M? What do you want to drink?”
“I might call it a night too,” I said with a smile. “Do you mind walking me back?” I asked Sax.
He raised his eyebrows. “Not at all.”
“Okay, ‘night everyone.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sax
“Where are we going?” she asked curiously.
I smiled as she glanced out the window of the cab, taking in the atmosphere. I slid my arm around her shoulder and kissed her. My lips pressed against hers and she smiled, her cheeks flushed.
“You’ll see,” I replied, wiggling my eyebrows. “You were fantastic up there tonight. Did I tell you that already?”
“Only about a hundred times,” she giggled.
I chuckled, her happiness infectious. Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to have disappeared. “Here we go,” I said.
She looked over to where I was looking and gasped. “Holy shit, that’s where we’re staying?”
“That’s it,” I grinned. It did look pretty spectacular. And at more than the other four rooms for the guys combined, it would fucking have to be. The cab pulled over and I waited while she climbed out, and then followed her.
“This must have cost you a fortune,” she muttered as I lifted our bags out of the trunk. “Seriously, I thought where the guys are staying was nice, but this? Holy shit.”
I grinned. “Wait till you see inside.”
She followed me through the revolving door, her mouth open. The lobby was pure magic—huge chandeliers, brass and crystal. The place screamed elegance. I strode over to the reception counter and smiled at the woman.
“Welcome to the Palazzo,” she smiled.
“Thanks. I have a reservation in one of your deluxe spa suites on a high floor.”
“
And your name, sir?” she asked, tapping at her computer.
“Saxon Waite,” I replied smoothly.
Her eyes widened with recognition. I heard Micah chuckle next to me.
“Mr. Waite, it’s a pleasure to have you at our hotel,” she gushed. “I’m going to upgrade you to our presidential suite, which is located on the top floor. Philippe will assist you with your luggage.” She pushed a key across the counter. “If there is anything else we can help you with, just let us know.”
