6. Nico
six
Nico
The dull ache at the base of my skull pounds in time with the electronic music in the club. I take another sip of my beer to snuff the pain creeping around the edges of my vision.
All I want to do is go home, draw all the blinds, and crawl into bed until this headache passes.
The sway of writhing bodies on the dance floor does nothing for me. Why the fuck did I promise Talia I’d come to this fucking thing again? My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out with a laugh. Speak of the devil.
Talia: Can my friend rent the apartment next door?
Hello to you too. I didn’t know you had friends.
Talia: Hi, and shut up. I have friends.
Sure you do.
Talia: Whatever. I showed her the place, and she loves it. Can she have it or not? At the friends and family price. Pretty please with sprinkles on top.
I grin at my phone as a memory of five-year-old Talia asking for extra sprinkles on her ice cream pops into my head. She’s only five years younger than me, but I’ve always been super protective of her.
When our father left, I promised myself that I would always be there for her. It seems wild that a five-year-old can have those thoughts, but I did. I’d give my sister anything if it made her happy.
Is she going to be loud?
Talia: No, she’s very private and works long hours.
Fine. But if she is loud, and I come home and find her throwing a rager, you’re going to be on the hook to evict her ass.
Talia: Deal.
I’ll have the realtor send you the paperwork.
Talia: Thank you! You’re the best brother ever. Love you, Nic.
Luv you too.
I shoot off a quick email to the realtor at the management company that runs rentals in my building and ask her to expedite the tenant lease.
My little sister has me wrapped around her finger. Hence my attendance at my future brother-in-law’s bachelor party. Fucking weird. But I’m doing it anyway.
For Talia, I remind myself.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and go back to watching the sea of dancers.
The night hasn’t been too bad, but thank fuck this club is the last stop on the Cam Miller bachelor party tour. We started with steak, whiskey, and poker in a private room at the best steakhouse in Los Angeles, where Cam’s three older brothers celebrated with us. I liked them. They are solid dudes.
I spent most of the time chatting with Cam’s oldest brother, Jace, about his son, who is also the same kid who gave me a dressing down on sportsmanship during the last family day. I shake my head at the memory. It feels like that happened a lifetime ago.
Now here I am, celebrating Cam’s impending nuptials to my sister.
I wasn’t happy about the strip show at the burlesque club that followed, but I have to hand it to Cam. He was respectful as fuck about it all. I’m pretty sure he’s putting on this dog and pony show for his boys. That he planned a similar night for Talia and her girls makes me respect him more.
The roar of laughter from my teammates has me turning around to find out what the commotion is all about.
Lance, Blake, and Heath are yukking it up in the private booth as Reed entertains them with another story from his and Cam’s wild days. Since squashing my beef with Cam, I’ve grown closer to them. I didn’t have this team camaraderie when I played with the Saints.
As I slip into the booth beside Lance, I finish my beer with a swig and place the bottle on the table. Without a word, he reaches over and grabs the expensive bottle of bourbon, fills a glass with two fingers’ worth, and slides it my way.
“Thanks.”
Lance juts his chin in acknowledgement. Lance is the quiet one of the group. The silent observer. He’s a good dude, even though there’s been a stick up his ass since a certain someone started working in the Evaders’ front office.
He needs to get laid so he can forget all about his little problem. He’d have no trouble. The fucker looks like he’s the product of Captain America and Superman’s super sperm. Blue eyes, blond hair, and huge as fuck.
“I have this chick bent over, and Cam is…” I tune Reed out as he describes his and Cam’s little romp with some model at the Chateau Marmont.
Reed and Cam are good-looking guys. It’s no surprise they cleaned up with the ladies. As much as I want to punch my sister’s fiancé in the dick, I can’t.
Fucking glass houses and all that.
Cam looks over at me in fear and, with my teeth bared, I narrow my eyes at him. He looks away and pinches the bridge of his nose. I wouldn’t be doing my brotherly duty if I didn’t make him think I was about to end him.
Heath smacks Reed upside the head. “Shut the fuck up already, McKay.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are my stories too vulgar for your delicate sensibilities now that you’re married?” Reed teases Heath.
“No, you dumb fuck. Nico is here. Doubt he wants to hear about Cam banging models with you.”
“Fucking hell,” Cam groans.
Reed shrugs and slugs back his drink. “So? I’m pretty sure that fucker over there”—he points at me—“has done a lot worse.”
I have. A wolfish grin spreads across my face.
“See, he’s tag-teamed,” Reed says triumphantly.
I wouldn’t go that far.
The vein in my forehead throbs for a new reason as I glare at Reed. “Enough. I don’t want to hear another word about the escapades you and Cam got into. Keep it up, and I’ll be punching you both in the dick for being mangy dogs.”
“Woof.” Reed wiggles his brows at me.
Blake, the shithead instigator, pulls out a wad of ones from his back pocket. “I’d pay good money to see you dick punch them.”
“How much you got?” I smirk.
“Three hundo.” Blake spreads the bills and fans his face.
Reed jumps to his feet and backs up as he covers his crotch. “Fuck off. I need my dick, you sickos. Cam, how about some help here?”
“Screw you, McKay. You should get your dick punched for telling that story in front of Romero.” Cam stands and pokes Reed in the chest with his finger.
I lean back in my seat, take a sip of my drink, and watch the show.
“Come on, man. You should be proud. Not many guys get to visit the Eiffel Tower without leaving the country.”
The table shakes and drinks spill as Cam throws a punch right at McKay’s dick. Reed’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he cups his junk and falls back into the booth with a groan. We all laugh at McKay’s dramatics.
“You deserved that,” Heath booms as he throws his head back with a laugh.
Cam bounces on his toes, waiting for Reed to retaliate, but he doesn’t move. “Apologize to my brother.”
Brother? Well, fuck, I guess I am his brother.
Reed looks my way and winks. “Apologies, Romero. Your sister’s a gem. Cam’s a lucky fucker.”
“Fucking right he is. Now, you mention another word about Cam’s dick, and I’ll chop yours off as retribution.”
“Fair,” Reed croaks. He looks over my shoulder, and his demeanor changes. He sits up and straightens his shirt. “Who the fuck invited that douche?”
I turn to find my best friend, Damien, entering the VIP room as the mood at the table darkens. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, so I’m taken aback by his presence. Especially since he’s been dodging my calls and texts over the last couple of months.
“Chill, guys. I did. He’s been Romero’s friend since they were kids.” Cam’s need to explain pisses me off. I don’t need him to speak on my behalf.
I get up and move towards my friend.
“Nic.” Damien adjusts his collar as he swaggers my way.
“D.” I reach out and shake his hand when a face I wasn’t expecting comes into view behind him. “What the fuck? Why did you bring Kyle to my brother-in-law’s bachelor party?” I hiss.
Kyle is a junior agent at his agency. From the few interactions I’ve had with him in the past, he seems like an okay guy. But I don’t know the guy well enough for him to attend my future brother’s bachelor party.
It’s fucking weird. Especially since Kyle briefly dated my sister last year. It obviously didn’t work out, but still. He shouldn’t be here.
Damien claps me on the back in a bro hug and shocks me when he says, “Chill, bro. It’s no big deal. He’s my partner now.”
I pull Damien to the side, out of earshot, as Kyle introduces himself to the guys and—without invitation—grabs the bottle of bourbon and helps himself. “When did this happen?”
“A while ago.” Damien shrugs, all cool, like he doesn’t owe me an explanation.
He does. Especially when it’s my money that bankrolled his agency, and it’s explicitly written in our business contract that any additions of managing partners will be discussed beforehand. With me. I don’t want to cause a scene, so I’ll save that conversation for later.
“Well, you should have fucking asked. This isn’t cool.” My headache returns full blast. I can feel the shooting pain behind my eyes again.
“Oh, so now you worship the ground Miller walks on because he’s all cuddled up with Lia?” Something flashes in Damien’s eyes as he uses my nickname for Talia, and something like hot coals burns in the pit of my stomach.
What the fuck was that look?
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Damien ignores me and winks at the server who walks by with a tray of drinks in her hands.
“D, I love my sister, and I won’t disrespect her. Don’t come here and cause problems where there are none. You hear me?” I clench my fists and my jaw, my back molars grinding. Damien has been my best friend since we were kids, but this guy is not him.
“Whatever, man. It’s all good. We just want to talk to these guys. Maybe some of them need new representation.” He flashes me a smile, the same smile I’ve seen for years, but this time it feels different, and it fucking irks me. Grates on my skin. “We’re cool, right?”
Like a hot poker to the optic nerve, my eye twitches, and the throbbing pain in my head intensifies. I need a fucking minute. “Yeah. Cool. Excuse me.”