Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Aaron led their group confidently past the crowd and right up to the front door.
Matt kept his expression impassive as people eyed them—a group of loud and extremely fit guys cutting to the front of the line was sure to attract attention.
There was a combination of hostility, curiosity and interest on most of the faces he could see, both female and male alike.
Whatever Aaron told the bouncer in charge of the door obviously worked its magic, because they were ushered directly inside, past the cashier taking cover charges and up a flight of plush stairs to what looked to be a VIP balcony overlooking the dance floor.
The music was slightly more muffled up here, to Matt’s enormous relief.
“Hey, man.” A tall redheaded guy came up to clasp Aaron’s hand and pull him into a backslapping hug. “Glad you could make it.”
“Wouldn’t miss it! Congrats, dude,” Aaron yelled exuberantly, then turned to the group, arm around the redhead’s shoulders. “Guys, this is my good buddy Rhys Halloran, a friend of mine since kindergarten. That’s the only reason I can ignore the fact he’s now an Air Force weenie.”
“Weenie. Right.” Rhys slapped Aaron on the back of his head, hard. “Better that than a fuckin’ psycho killer.”
It was no secret Aaron wanted to be a sniper once he got to the teams. He shrugged. “It’s a true fact that violence sometimes does solve your problems.”
“And I’ll be the one who parachutes in to save your ass when you fuck everything up.”
Still bickering with Aaron, Rhys led the group over to a conversation pit full of overstuffed couches.
As Matt sank into a nearby chair, he looked Rhys over with renewed interest. From his statement, he must be a pararescueman, the Air Force’s contribution to special ops.
They were specialists in combat casualty care, inserted behind enemy lines to treat and rescue downed pilots or wounded soldiers.
When Rhys got to Matt for an introduction, Matt gaped at his leaf-green eyes, pale, freckled skin and red-gold hair. He was fuckin’ gorgeous, not to mention a total badass by trade.
Matt mumbled a shy hello, basking in the warmth of Rhys’s answering grin.
After releasing his grip on Matt’s hand, Rhys turned to the woman who’d come up beside him to thread her arm through his.
She was tall, and curvy, wearing a tight club logo tank top and white shorts that set off her long, tanned legs.
“Everyone,” Rhys called out, “this is Lani. My love, my life, and as of this afternoon…my fiancée!”
At Rhys’s proud words, Lani lifted her left hand to display a sparkling engagement ring. “This dude took me totally by surprise,” she declared. “Asked me in front of his entire platoon. Way to put me on the spot, you know?”
“We’ve only been together since we were five. It couldn’t have been that much of a surprise, sweetheart.” Rhys grinned at her, leaning in for a kiss, which he turned into a grand production, dipping her back toward the ground.
Congratulations rang out from all sides, toasts were called for, and smiling cocktail servers delivered pitchers of beer and frosty glasses to all.
Matt flagged one of them down and whispered that he was the night’s designated driver, so she hustled off to bring him a huge club soda with lime that she put down in front of him with a flourish.
As he sipped it, Matt glanced around the room.
He sat bolt upright in shock. Holy shit.
That was Shane lurking at the edge of the group, dressed in a gray Henley and soft, worn black jeans.
His eyes were fixed on Rhys, Lani and Aaron, who were talking with some of their friends.
Lani was leaning back against Aaron, his arm draped around her shoulders.
Matt got up and moved over to him. “Thinking about Jon and Alexis?”
Shane gave him a startled look. “Yeah, actually. The night they announced their engagement was a lot like this. Out with friends at a college bar, Jon making a big show of it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“You didn’t have any idea it was coming?”
“None.” Shane’s voice was hard. “In fact, we—” He broke off, shaking his head.
“Anyway, he not only sprang that on me, but also the fact he was leaving in a couple of days for boot camp with a brand-new SEAL contract in hand. Told the whole group of us at the same time, and that’s how I found out, too. ”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah. Anyway…” Shane took a deep breath. “So. I was gonna surprise you here, but I decided to take a walk down memory lane instead and FUBARed it.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he determinedly turned his back on the happy couple.
“What about studying?”
Shane gave a shrug. “Couldn’t concentrate. Wonder why?” He nudged Matt’s foot with his own.
“Shane—”
“I’m gonna cram all tomorrow and all tomorrow night, I promise. Study partners more than welcome.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, right. If I come over, we’re gonna ‘study,’ uh-huh.”
“Ah, well, it was just a thought.” Shane shot him a wicked grin. “I figured I’d come out for a while and dance, maybe sneak in a grope or two while we’re packed in on the dance floor all sweaty and shit.”
“Joke’s on you, ’cause I don’t dance,” Matt said severely, although a smile was tugging at his lips. “You’re on your own there, hoss.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Matt.” Shane clutched his chest, several whoops ringing out as the guys noticed him. Running over, they dragged him toward the direction of the dance floor, yelling something about him being their wingman.
Matt let him go, not interested in trying to shout at him through the crowd and noise, wandering toward the bar with his drink and perching on a stool at the end of it.
He gazed around, his attention caught by a large group of men dominating one of the other seating areas.
They were as loud and boisterous as his group was, but they didn’t necessarily look military… one too many potbellies.
“Cops.”
Matt turned to look at Lani, who was sliding him a fresh club soda. “Ah. Thanks. I was wondering.”
“Someone’s birthday. And I’ve already asked for extra security to be on alert, so don’t worry.”
Mystified, Matt tried to think why there’d need to be extra security for a bunch of cops and almost-SEALs. Just then Rhys appeared leading still another group of men, all of whom were hard and fit. A couple of them had women on their arm, though most were single.
“Rhys is attached to Team Three,” Lani informed him as she went to greet the new arrivals. Matt gulped. They were about to hang out with some actual team guys?
The cops were looking over at them, elbowing each other and obviously talking trash amongst themselves judging by the sneers on their faces. The SEALs returned the stares impassively before presenting their backs with an air of disdain.
Adrenaline started a low-grade bubbling through Matt’s veins—there was a lot of alpha-male testosterone in this room. It didn’t help when Matt’s group started trickling back upstairs, flushed and sweaty from dancing, their original number more than doubled by the amount of ladies accompanying them.
Before long a few of the women sitting with the cops somehow ended up on the SEAL side of the room, too.
One of them, a petite brunette, accepted a glass of beer Shane handed her and sank down gracefully beside him on one of the couches.
Shane himself was drinking club soda, same as Matt, and the sight of it warmed him as he remembered his promise not to drink around him anymore.
Shane and the woman were talking animatedly, along with a lot of laughter and what appeared to be some light flirtation.
After dealing with a wholly unaccustomed but thankfully short-lived burst of jealousy, Matt turned away and left him to it, comfortable in the fact Shane was there for him tonight. Period.
Sorry, lady. He’s mine.
Shane’s husky laugh rang out again. Matt glanced over to see he and his lady friend were standing up, getting ready to head back down to the dance floor. Before they left, Shane brought the woman’s empty glass to the bar and Matt couldn’t help but mutter, “Having fun?”
Shane grinned at him. “Yep. She’s smart and funny, and she smells great.” He lowered his voice, even though there was so much noise and confusion no one would have heard him if he’d shouted. “You jealous?”
“Hell yeah.”
The easy admission made Shane’s eyes widen, then darken with promise. “I guess I’ll, uh, just have to reassure you later, won’t I?”
“Just so you know, I’m gonna need lots of reassurance.” Matt shrugged as if they were discussing the weather. “Over and over and over.”
Shane’s nostrils flared. “All night long, baby.”
He pushed away from the bar, leaving Matt tingling with arousal, grateful for the shirt covering his lap.
The woman smiled at Shane as he approached. As they headed toward the stairs, her high heel caught in a rough patch on the carpet. She stumbled, grabbing Shane’s arm to keep from falling, and when she righted herself he slid his arm around her waist until she’d regained her footing.
Suddenly one of the cops surged to his feet and stormed over to them, his face red with alcohol and anger.
Oh, shit.
The guy was good-looking in a florid, beefy sort of way. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of a too-tight shirt, which he’d obviously worn to show off muscles carefully honed in the gym.
Matt wasn’t going to interfere, but he got to his own feet and moved closer in case Shane needed him.
“That’s my girl,” the cop was yelling. “I met her first!”
Shane’s face hardened into granite. “I believe this woman is perfectly capable of deciding who she’s going to spend her evening with. That decision doesn’t appear to include you, asshole, so fuck off.”
Even though Shane was leaner than the cop, coiled power radiated from every inch of him. Matt could see the cop take that in before he darted his gaze over to the group of SEALs, all of whom were now watching them.