Chapter 1 #2
My eyes find the other man and instantly betray me, widening in shock at the sheer maleness before me. Oh my fuck, they are both flipping hot! Dark hair, blue eyes, equally as fit, the two of them look like they belong on the front of a magazine.
I turn my attention to Joey and find him glaring at the side of my head.
Oh, please piss off.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Joey asks, hopefully.
I wince. He’s not a bad bloke, and I feel for the guy I do, but I’m just not interested.
“No. Not tonight, Joey, sorry. I’m here with the girls.”
“What about tomorrow? Do you have rehearsals?”
I would lie if I thought he’d believe me, but I’m the worst liar. I fidget and curl my fingers into my collarbone. My mum used to call me out as a kid. It was something I started doing from a young age, and even now, I don’t realise I’m doing it.
So, I tell the truth. I mean, Joey won’t know I plan to sleep the weekend away. It’s been a busy week in the studio, and I’m exhausted. “No, I don’t work the weekend, but I am busy. Sorry.”
“Ahh, that’s okay, maybe another time?”
I smile and thank god that the conversation is over.
Feeling uncomfortable, I look to my right again and find the two hotties listening in on our conversation.
The dark-haired guy raises his brows as if in warning.
Confused, I turn my head back around to find Joey still staring at me, waiting for an answer.
Oh, for Christ’s sake, take a hint! I feel two hands take hold of my chair possessively, and then I’m being spun around.
“Look, mate, she isn’t interested, fuck off.”
Oh my god, I’m now staring at the blond’s chest. He’s glaring over my head. My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
“Fuck you!” Joey sneers, sounding fuming mad. What is happening? “I’m her friend, you rude prick!”
“No, you’re not. You’re trying your luck to get laid, soft cock. Now leave!” The last bit comes out as a growl, and I shrink down farther in my seat. I should stop this. Joey is harmless, and I’ve never set him straight. This is a shamble.
“Nina?”
“It’s fine, Joey, you go. I’m going to get my drinks and head back to the girls.” I turn my head to see him standing at my back, his face bright red with rage. My eyes plead with him.
Please don’t cause a scene.
He downs the last of his pint then slams his glass down onto the bar. I eye my drinks like they are my ticket out of here and start to pick up the tray. Joey looks at me one last time before he shakes his head, turning for the exit.
“You okay?” This comes from the tall, dark-haired guy. He has a soft look in his eyes as if he feels bad for what his friend has just done.
“Yes, I’m fine, sorry. He’s alright, just hasn’t taken the hint yet.” I drop my head, completely mortified.
“I’m Charlie.”
My eyes lift and I smile. There’s something about this man. He’s got an air about him that instantly makes me feel safe. My hand finds his outstretched one, and he returns my smile.
My gaze moves to the blond. He is staring down his nose at me, and I squirm under his glare. What’s his problem? I can see his mind ticking over as he assesses me.
This one, I’m not getting quite the same feels from.
He’s hot. I mean, hot doesn’t even come close to this guy.
He oozes power. His tailored suit tells me that alone, but that look he’s giving me tells me he’s the boss.
Like, the boss’s, boss’s boss. I force my chin up and don’t back down.
His brows rise, then he breaks out into a chuckle.
My brows draw in. “Okay, crazy.” Time to go.
I spin with my tray, ready to hotfoot it back to my girls. Where are those bitches anyway? They saw I needed an out with Joey.
“Hey, wait a second, Pixie.”
I stop, slowly spinning on my heel. Pixie. Is this guy serious?
“Excuse me?” I jolt my head to the side for effect, but I have a feeling the wine has already made me tipsy, and I look like a fool.
He grins at me, and I can’t help it; the wall I put up ten seconds ago crumbles with his playful manner.
“That’s your friends over there, the blonde and brunette?” He smiles cheekily.
Oh, I’m so on to you, mister.
“Who?” I crane my neck, pretending to look around for said beauties. The pair of idiots are standing. Why are they standing? I screw my face up every which way. Come and help me! They stare at me, open-mouthed.
I roll my eyes. “Nope, I don’t know them.” I catch Charlie’s eyes. The corner of his mouth tipping up into a smile.
“Ah, okay, no worries.” The blond one gives me a wink, turning back to the bar to down his drink.
I make a dash away, finally, after what feels like an eternity since I left to go to the bar. I do my best to shimmy my way back to the girls without spilling a drop of wine, taking the long way around and heading past the dance floor to throw the boys off.
“What the hell was that?” Lucy shouts when I’m a few feet from the table. I sit down, grab my drink and down it in one, wincing from the sweetness that sets my cheeks tingling. “Who were those guys, and what did you say to Joey? He was so angry when he left.”
“Me? I didn’t say anything. It was him.” I search the bar for the blond guy and Charlie, but I can’t see them anywhere.
“Oh, don’t you worry,” she scoffs, taking her drink from the tray. “We saw them, babe.” She salutes me with her glass.
I roll my eyes, laughing with them.
“Did you get numbers? Please tell me you got numbers!” Megan begs.
“No! The blond guy was intense and had the attitude of an eighteen-year-old boy.”
Lucy’s mouth drops open again, and Megan breaks out into a face splitting grin. She has a glint in her eye that she only gets when she’s on a manhunt.
I look to my empty drink and sigh. The blond asshole is behind me.
I turn slowly, confirming my suspicions when I find him towering above me with a tray of shots, eyebrows raised high as he tries to look offended.
Charlie looks at me sympathetically with a grin on his face.
His head turned to the side, looking all adorable.
I slide into the seat deeper, sighing as I make room for them.
“Pixie, I see you made some new friends. Want to introduce me?” His facade slips, and he cracks a smile. I elbow him in the ribs, my own smile splitting my face.
“Megan, Lucy, this is Charlie and…” I look to the blond in question. I don’t remember his name. Did he even tell me? I smile. “Ken.”
He throws his head back, laughing, as does Charlie.
“Tequila, girls?”
Oh god. As I said, it’s going to get messy.
It’s eleven p.m. and the club is completely packed. There isn’t a spare seat in sight—every square foot filled with men and women fawning over each other.
The night has been better than I’d expected. The boys, Charlie and Ken—or Elliot as I now know him to be—have been hilarious. I’ve danced, sang and laughed more than I have in a long time. I feel good. I feel drunk. I’m so drunk.
Lucy is tucked under Charlie’s arm, having a deep ‘I won’t remember this in the morning’ talk. She’s all tequila’d out. Is that even a word? I frown into my glass of water. We need to get her home.
Megan comes back from the dance floor with a guy on her arm, and I nod my head to where Lucy is sitting and mouth, We are going.
She turns, giving her man an all tongue and teeth kiss as he grabs her behind, grinding into her as she whispers in his ear.
I look at Elliot, sitting next to me, only to find he has the same horrified expression on his face. We both erupt with laughter.
But then he stops and stares at me, his face growing somewhat serious in his drunken state.
His eyes pinch in at the corners, lips twisting up in thought.
Maybe it’s the tequila, but I can’t control my features, and I continue to laugh in his face.
Elliot shakes his head as he looks down into his glass, his face morphing back to that megawatt smile.
Mase
I roll my car into my apartment building’s underground car park, heading for my space at the farthest end along the back wall. My dash reads 22:34, but it feels a whole lot later.
A layer of sweat still sits on my skin from my late-night workout. It’s been a shit week. The same old shit in the office topped off with a call from my father tonight.
My phone alerts me of a new message just as I’m reversing in. I put my car in park and pick it up.
Elliot
I have something for you
Pick me up at The Pearl
The life of Elliot Montgomery. It must be nice having all the girls, money, and power, but no burden of the empire we’ve built.
I love my best friend. He’s one of the smartest, most loyal men I know, but he’s a lazy bastard.
Our parents were best friends growing up, which meant by default, we became best friends.
It wasn’t ever a choice, but he’s the family I choose now.
Clicking back on the screen, I read the message again, shaking my head in annoyance. I needed that idiot tonight, and he was out? Chasing fucking pixies. I shake my head and laugh. “Not tonight, my friend,” I mutter to no one.
Climbing from my car on aching legs, I round the bonnet, grabbing my gym bag from the back seat.
I walk to the elevator and hit the button for the penthouse, leaning back and running my hands over my face.
The steel doors jolt open, and I flick on the lights.
It doesn’t feel like a home anymore, it’s cold and serves the only purpose of a hole to rest my head.
Its charm’s lost on me. Dimming the lights and blanketing the place in darkness, my feet hit the stairs, and I leave the shadows of the apartment behind me.
Ten minutes later, I emerge from my en suite fresh from a shower. A towel wrapped low around my waist. Dropping down to the bed, I run my hands over my face and hair. I contemplate having a drink to take the edge off, but I already know nothing will be strong enough.
My mind goes back to Elliot’s text and that little pixie emoji. It’s been years. Blowing out a breath, I sit up in a rush, making a rash decision based on the warmth that spreads through my chest.
The streets are full and bustling with the Friday night crowd as I weave in and out of London traffic with one thing on my mind.
My Pixie.
I feel childish even thinking about it. I’m a thirty-two-year-old man, for fuck’s sake. What if Elliot is just taking the piss anyway? I’ve never known him to be a serious man.
I rest my elbow on the window, running my pointer finger over my bottom lip. All I know is I couldn’t turn my car around, even if I wanted to.
The club comes into view, and I manage to find a space on the next road.
A rarity on a Friday night in London, and the reason I barely drive myself anymore.
Sliding out my phone, I shoot Elliot a text telling him I’m here, then step from my Bentley and hit lock on my key fob.
Adrenaline is the only thing propelling my body in the direction of the club.