Page 14 of Reckless

“Yeah. Love you, too, bro.” He gave me a lazy, crooked smile as he tipped the contents of his sixth…or maybe his eighth shot down his throat. Leaning forwards, he pressed his lips to the throat of the girl currently straddling his lap. He repeated his previous words in a slow, drunken drawl. “Love you, too.”

“An’ me.” Ainsley waved his hand in front of my face. He was one of only three people in our booth without a girl all over them. As he’d told me earlier, he had a long-term girlfriend. Then there was Grant, who was married, and the other was…me.

I guessed I was more picky than I thought. None of the girls that had been sent our way had caught my eye, even though they were objectively fucking hot. Honey Rose had been the only one I’d been interested in, and even then, I’d known it was a lost cause without JJ having to tell me. Places like this always had strict rules in place for their dancers.

Avoiding looking at the other end of the booth, where Fuckface McFuckerson was currently trying to extract the tonsils of some poor girl with his tongue, I slumped against Ainsley. “Yeah, yeah. All the love. Hey, Ains? We’re gonna win the league, yeah?”

“Yeah, man. Champions.” Ainsley fist-bumped me but missed and ended up jabbing my bicep. “Whass that noise?”

Over the thumping beat of the club music, I could hear a tinny sound coming from Ainsley’s thigh. I smacked my hand onto it. “Your leg’s ringing.”

“Wha’?” Staring blearily at me, he joined me in smacking his leg. “Make it stop.”

“Your phone is ringing, you…bell end.” Lars reached across Ainsley, extracting his phone from his pocket.

“’S’all one word. Bellend,” I mumbled while Ainsley jabbed at the screen until the noise stopped.

“Yes. Bellend.” Lars nodded, lifting his pint glass into the air. I also lifted my glass, clinking it against his. The girl on his lap giggled, turning her head to kiss his neck. He seemed sober, but I could’ve sworn that was his sixth or seventh pint. Wait. My gaze narrowed at my own glass, the table tilting in front of my eyes. It was empty. When had that happened? How many had I had?

“I’m going back to the hotel now… No. Haven’t been drinking…”

I snorted at Ainsley’s slurred words, and he shot me what I thought was supposed to be a glare.

“It’s his girlfriend on the phone,” Lars whispered. Or shouted. Huh, maybe he was drunker than he looked.

Ending the call, Ainsley staggered to his feet, and immediately, Grant was there, propping him up.

“Not like any of you drunk fuckers care, but I’ll get him back to the hotel, and then I’ll come back.”

It didn’t seem as if anyone else was paying attention, other than me, so I made sure I gave Grant a thumbs up. When they were both gone, I collapsed back against the booth, closing my eyes.

Just for a second.

“Oi, Emery!”

The shout made my eyes fly open. Oh, Grant was back.

“Time to go.” He made a grab for my arm, but I was perfectly fine. I could get up myself.

Whoa…the world was spinning.

I dropped back down into the booth. In my drunken state, everything seemed to be coming from far away, but I was dimly aware of Grant complaining, something about babysitting players.

Then another person took his place. “Jordan. Get the fuck up. Now.”

Those posh, clipped vowels were as effective as a bucket of ice water being thrown over me. Or maybe not, but they had a sobering effect that was equivalent to a shot of caffeine to my veins. I managed to climb to my feet and stood, swaying slightly.

“Theo?”

“Don’t fucking speak my name.” An arm came around me, yanking me forwards, and I found myself leaning against someone. Someone so fucking warm and solid and fuuuuck…they smelled so fucking good. Like salt and waterfalls and nature-y things.

“Jordan. Fucking stop.”

The voice penetrated the haze surrounding me, and I lifted my face from where I’d apparentlyburied it in his throat. “What thefuck,” I whispered to myself, taking a step back, except I couldn’t move because Theo’s arm was banded around my waist.

“Yeah. Don’t ever do that again.”

Even in my drunken state, I could hear the rasp in Theo’s voice, and maybe if I’d been more aware, alarm bells would’ve rung.

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