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The piercing eyes of a man meet mine.
He’s conventionally my type: smug, maybe a decent lay. Probably has a name like Carrington or Everett St. James of the Royal House of Jackass.
I guess this make of man is international.
My mind replays the countless similar nights I’ve spent in New York, entertaining guys who look like him in places as extravagant as this. He’d waste his night trying to load me up on drinks and walking me through his stock portfolio.
That’s typically my favorite flavor of man to turn into a blubbering, needy, lovestruck fool.
But the excitement I’d usually feel at the prospect of a conquest has subdued. No—it’s gone completely dormant. Likely due to Nico’s hand resting at the base of my spine, his thumb swiping at the exposed skin in my low-back dress.
“Do you want a bad guy, Lily?” Nico returns to my ear, catching the binocular eyes stalking me from the end of the balcony.
“Only to ruin them.”
“I guess I’ve been bad since I’m already ruined by you.”
My gaze flicks away from the would-be prey and onto the polar-opposite man at my side. “You’re too sweet for all that.”
“You’re right.”
“You really fancy my lad here?” Klaus interrupts us, hanging his meaty arm around our shoulders. “Mate’s never been easy to hold down.”
“We’re friends,” I clarify, reaching for a drink a waitress places on the table. “My best friend married his brother.”
“Keeping it in the family…” Klaus says something else, but the music trembles through the club.
I’m happy I don’t catch whatever inappropriate joke he makes.
He rambles on to Nico until someone appears at my side, pulling my attention away from the conversation entirely.
Ah, the steward from the Royal House of Jackass.
“Hello, beautiful.” The man from the balcony reaches for my hand. “I’m Zacharia Prescott.”
Bold. I gotta give him props.
I’m snuggled in a three-way hug with two other men, and even that’s not enough repellent to keep him away.
My favorite voice shouts, “I’m Nico.” He takes the stranger’s hand in a firm embrace that flickers a wince across Zacharia’s face.
“Is this your brother?” Zacharia’s eyes slide from mine to Nico’s.
“And my lover,” I yell.
Zacharia’s eyes grow wide, and he slowly backs away.
I sit next to one of the smiling women at Klaus’s table. She smiles at me.
“So, how do you know Klaus?” I ask.
“Next-door neighbor. Invited me and my friends for the free booze.” She tips her glass to mine. “I’m Ren, by the way.”
After countless shots and cocktails, everyone at our table finds themselves on the dance floor.
The cold blast from the air-conditioning tingles against my skin. I throw my hands in the air, rolling my hips to the rhythm of the bass.
“I feel fucking incredible,” I shout at no one in particular. My eyes shut as I bounce along to the music.
