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“Five? You sure you can handle all that hard liquor, sugar?”
“I’ll show you exactly what I can handle, London.”
Jeremy chuckled.
The lines were drawn with shot glasses. My guys gathered around Sienna and me on one side of the table while the band—which I discovered were called Mad Lurchers—and their crew surrounded Jeremy’s side. Jeremy shed his suit jacket and passed it off to the drummer. Then he rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, revealing muscular forearms, one of which was covered in a sleeve of tattoos.
Sienna’s eyes bugged at the sight.
“Are you two ready?” I asked them.
“Ready.” Jeremy sent Sienna a mischievous look. “Sugar?”
He smirked when she glared at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re going down.”
Royce held out his cell phone and opened up the timer app. “Three. Two. One!”The word had barely left his lips, and they were into it.
“Come on, Sienna, you can do it,” I cried.
“Drink, drink, drink.” The band cheered their manager on.
The commotion got louder the further down the line the pair got until Jeremy reached the very last one.
“No.” Sienna gasped.
He threw the vodka back, slammed down the glass, and pumped his fists in the air while Sienna pathetically attempted to pour the last of the burning liquid down her throat.
Jeremy was proud as a peacock, the way he puffed out his chest and strutted about. Then he rested his hand on the table and peered across at my best friend. “Come on, then. Phone number, sugar. A deal’s a deal.”
With a roll of her eyes, Sienna sighed. “Fine.” She grabbed a coaster, took the pen offered to her, and scrawled some digits down.
She handed it across to him and stepped back.
“Hold on, not so fast. I’ve gotta make sure this is legit.” He slipped his thick fingers into his pocket and withdrew his phone. He typed the numbers into the device and hit dial. Moments later, “Payphone” by Maroon 5 began playing, and Sienna held her cell up. With a satisfied nod, the guy waved the coaster in the air. “Here you go, mate. Merry Christmas.”
Calloused guitar fingers took the cardboard square from Jeremy.
Sienna and I balked when the lead singer stepped into his place.
He was all swagger and sinful intent as he looked down his long, straight nose at her. His full lips parted as did hers. “Thanks, cuz.”
“You’re…” she began, and he waited. “You were…” Sienna pointed in the rough vicinity of the stage.He arched a dark eyebrow. “You’re the one who wanted my number? Why didn’t you play the drinking game with me?”
“I don’t like to drink until I’ve finished my set. Then I can buy you a drink at the same time.” The lead singer’s accent was more cultured than his friend’s, indicating the possibility of an upper-class upbringing.
Sienna glanced at Jeremy from the corner of her eye as she stretched her hand to the singer.
He took it but didn’t shake it. Whatever he did to my friend, he had her under his spell almost instantly.
I frowned.
This guy was dangerous in an entirely evocative way.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Cruz,” he muttered, although he didn’t look at me.
Seeming to remember herself, she yanked her hand away. “Well, Cruz, I think your intermission is over.”
