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He blinked and nodded. “I’m more than okay. I just…it’s been so…”
He paused and licked his lips.
Brodie lost for words was an anomaly I wasn’t prepared for.
My eyes were transfixed on his slick mouth.
Not for the first time, I wondered how soft his lips were and how he would taste.
It dawned on me just how closely I’d been watching him all along.
The expressiveness when he sang. The way he bit his lip when he was frustrated. The curl of his sneer when he was angry. The way his lips stretched wide when he laughed out loud.
I wanted to taste it all.
“Guys, we have a problem.”
Dawson’s booming voice startled Brodie and me.
I turned without thinking, realizing, too late, that my rock-hard dick was tenting my trousers.
Thankfully Dawson’s gaze didn’t waver from mine.
“Regan and the secondaries are having issues with a drunk on the dance floor. They’re headed out with the guys. We need to leave. Now.”
A possible security threat had my dick deflating just like that.
But instead of stepping away from Brodie, I took his hand as Dawson guided us out of the VIP room and down the stairs.
Brodie made no effort to let go.
And fuck me, holding his hand felt as natural as everything else between us.
When we got outside, I noticed Regan and her team with the rest of the guys, including Nate and his bandmates.
As we drew closer, my eyes hovered on Holloway, who was holding his hand to his cheek.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Some asshole wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I told him to fuck off. Then he punched me. Or he tried to,” Holloway replied and rolled his eyes.
Dawson gently pulled Holloway’s hand aside and inspected his face.
“I’m fine. He just grazed me; he was too drunk to do any real harm,” Holloway insisted and drew his head back.
“Do you need to go to the hospital?” I asked and looked around. “Did anyone else get hurt?”
“It was just Holls,” Faisel replied. “He defended himself, and then Regan was there to get us away before it could escalate.”
“He’s gonna have a bruise for sure, but it didn’t break the skin. Are you dizzy or nauseous?” Dawson asked.
Holloway shook his head. “I told you, he barely hit me. I’ll ice it. I’ll be fine. For fuck’s sake, I’ve had worse injuries on stage.”
Dawson crossed his arms and continued to stare at Holloway. “Did you defend yourself like I taught you?”
“Fucking right, he did,” Nate commented. “It was like a scene from a goddamn movie! You gotta teach us those sick martial arts moves, Holls.”
“No one is teaching anyone anything right now,” Regan interrupted. “Let’s get in the vehicles before we draw a crowd.”
