AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No one checks our IDs, happy to give us flutes of champagne.
"Not the closest, but we get along," Camden replies diplomatically.
"What he means," Rhys clarifies, "is that Nate is new money. He parties like a rock star and throws money at crazy shit like yachts."
"And you don't?" I snort.
"I might spend a fair bit, particularly on you—" Camden admits magnanimously.
"You bought me a Porsche this week."
He ignores the interruption. "ButI spend responsibly in proportion to what I have at my disposal…and I don't do gaudy."
"Nate is fucking cringe," Roman bluntly sums up.
"And loud," Rhys adds.
"And impulsive." From the way Camden says it, that's the worst offense in his eyes.
"Oh yeah?" Someone laughs softly behind us.
I turn and my mouth falls open.
I'm not blind. Though never particularly attracted to anyone as much as Camden, I can tell Rhys and Roman are objectively hot, as is Damian, or even Camden's dad.
The man in the red velvet suit isn't hot. He's fantastic. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, with his dark, messy hair, and sleepy, deep brown eyes. In all likelihood, he’s probably smoked something, but he doesn't seem to be too plastered yet, just incredibly relaxed.
He wears several rings on his fingers, and I notice his nails are polished black. There's a thick gold chain around his throat, with a large black stone pendant at its center.
"Wow," is all I can say.
The man shows me his hand, wiggling his fingers. "We match!"
Indeed, I'm also wearing black polish. Willow made a point of wanting to paint my nails for tonight, and she didn't have any other color. I quite like it.
"We do," I grin, instantly liking him.
"Nate, this is my Morgan." I don't miss the emphasis on ownership.
Camden always confuses me, part of him so possessive, and yet he loves nothing more than to watch his friends touch me.
"Morgan, Nathaniel. He's the worst."
The man nods, unoffended. "Where have you hidden this beauty?" he asks, eying me with an unmistakable leer, which confuses me.
I would have assumed he was gay by his look and mannerisms. I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but I've never seen a straight man take metrosexuality to this level.
"I wasn't hiding," I say, not for the first time. "We lived in the same town for, like, nineteen years."
"Impossible. I'm eighteen." He points a finger to the bartender. "You didn't hear that."
"Never," the employee agrees with a mock salute. "Drink, sir?"
I guess they're getting paid enough to make the risk of a fine worth it.
"Why, thank you, my friend. I'll have the good stuff you're guarding with your life."
Rather than a flute, Nate is given a tumbler with two fingers of amber liquid. He downs the whole thing in one go, then wraps his arms around Camden's and Rhys's backs. "Now, I'm going to get plastered until the toast. It's your job to make sure I can stand and talk by then."
