Chapter 4 - Kaeli
Four
Kaeli
Present
It was a mistake.
Slamming my eighth shot of tequila on the bar, I groan at how loud the music in the club is as it thumps and vibrates through my body while the bartender looks at me with pity.
It all started with me needing a distraction. Now, I don’t have many friends–none at all, actually. I do have Stacy, but she has a family she goes home to every night.
It’s all because of who my brother is. Every girl who ever befriended me did so to get under my brother. And all the boys who dated me were my brother’s fans and saw me as a concierge for their way into the locker room.
I can’t blame my brother either. I love Roman. My older brother has always looked out for me, and it’s not like I can fault him for being famous or talented. It’s the people who are shitty and use me to get to him.
It was good to learn early on in life that people only ever get close to you to use you. They value you based on what you can provide them with.
Fuck that. I don’t need anybody to live a happy life. I finally have the dream job, living in the best apartment my salary could buy. What more could I need?
That also leaves me with zero people to hang out with. Thinking that maybe I could pick up a guy at a club and get a one-night stand out of him, I decided to come here. A girl has needs after all.
But as my luck would have it, not a single guy in this cluster of drunken fools has caught my attention. Either they’re too sleazy or too cocky for my taste.
Deciding against a one-night stand, I drown myself and my misery in multiple shots of tequila. That’s how I ended up miserable, alone, and drunk in a club full of randos on a Friday night.
“Ma’am, I think you should call someone to take you home,” the nice bartender with very pretty eyes suggests, leaning closer so that I can hear him over the loud music.
I peek at him, my chin resting on my hand. “I have no one to call.” A sigh leaves my mouth, realizing how pathetic I sound.
His eyes again shine with pity, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. “Do you want me to call you an Uber?”
Just as I’m about to answer him, a man appears at my side. His dirty blonde hair sticking to his forehead as the smell of his sweat mixed with his ridiculously expensive cologne burns the hair in my nostrils.
My nose scrunches when he leans in and asks, “Can I buy you a drink, baby girl?” His shaky smile and perusal do nothing for me except make me uncomfortable. Eww. He did not just say that.
Giving him a forced smile, I decline, “No, I’m good.” I get off the stool to make my exit, knowing it’s time to leave. The alcohol in my system causes me to stagger on my feet, making it hard for me to find my balance.
He hovers closer, his hand touching my back without invitation, “Come on. Don’t play hard to get. Why else would you be here alone if not for some cock?”
His indecent and crude words make me gag, as a shiver of disgust rolls down my body. Unfortunately for me, he takes it as an invitation. My body tenses as I try to extricate myself when he grabs my arm.
I look at the bartender, who’s now busy with other patrons, hoping he’ll glance my way. He doesn’t.
Pulling my hand to get rid of his hold on me, I grit, “Let me go.”
The sleazeball doesn’t take the hint, and his body crowds me, my back pressing against the bar counter. My heart rate rockets as his foul breath, laced with the stench of cheap alcohol, hits me.
“Let me go,” I repeat, the pitch of my voice rising higher.
The situation I am in assaults me with similar painful memories, making my breath stutter. But before the panic could set in, I recall that I’ve gotten out once, and I can do it again.
Squaring my shoulders, I’m about to knee him in the balls when a large hand clasps his hand and twists it behind his back. His body, splayed on the bar, struggles to get out of the strong hold.
“I believe the lady asked you to fucking let her go.” This voice. I would recognize this voice even in my dreams. My loopy eyes follow the owner of the raspy voice and find Ezra. “Or are you hard of hearing?”
How is he here? Why is he here?
The man wails in pain when Ezra applies pressure to his twisted arm. “Next time I see your hand anywhere near her, I’ll rip it off its socket and shove it up your ass,” he growls, his menacing words ringing true.
The man pales at Ezra’s words and apologizes profusely, but I don’t give him a second thought.
All of my drunken attention is on the other man, whose threatening words turn me on for some reason that alludes me.
God! Why do I find the sight of him angry so hot?
It’s probably because I drank my weight in tequila. But that doesn’t stop me from admiring him in his gray tee and black jeans. He fills his clothes in a way no one else can, all sexy and broad shoulders.
Ezra turns and pushes the man away, and like the coward he is, he scurries away like a rat, and my eyes instantly fall on Ezra’s ass.
Fuck, that ass looks good in those jeans.
He swivels to look at me with a scowl and raised eyebrow. “Are you all right?”
Realizing that he’s asking me, I nod and stand up straight to leave, only to stumble.
Ezra’s hands shoot out, grabbing hold of my waist and halting my face-first dive toward the floor. The innocent contact sends a lick of shiver rolling down the length of my spine, spreading goosebumps all over my body in its wake.
A giggle escapes me at the picture of me on the ground as I hold on to him. Tilting my head up, I see him looking at me with a bemused expression, causing me to giggle again.
Yeah, no. The Ezra I know doesn’t look at me like this. That Ezra always has a scowl etched on his handsome face. He must be a hallucination. I am drunk after all.
I nuzzle my face into his chest as his warmth surrounds me.
God, he’s so warm.
A sigh escapes my lips as I bask in it, knowing that it won’t ever happen in real life, so I should make the most of my dream. Enjoy it while it lasts.
“Okay, let’s get you home,” comes his amused voice from above me as his hold on me tightens and he pivots our bodies together to get to the exit of the club.
It’s like the sea of people parts for him without him having to lift a single finger. Like they can feel his larger-than-life aura, like I feel it deep in my bones.
I stick close to him, my body swaying and almost falling multiple times before we reach the exit.
“What’s your address, Kaeli?” he asks as soon as we’re out on the sidewalk, pulling out his phone from his pocket.
There’s a long line of people still waiting at the entrance for their turn to head into the club. The combination of the chilly wind and my high heels makes me teeter.
He pulls me closer as he whispers in my ear, “Easy there, Feather.” I glance at him through my lashes as his warm breath skates over my skin.
Outside the club, his scent surrounds me. He smells woodsy with hints of cinnamon and something I can’t quite make out. “Don’t want you falling and cracking your head open on me.”
It takes my inebriated mind a second to process his words, but the moment I do, it makes me cackle. The image of my head open is too funny to suppress my laugh. Drunk me has a very graphic and vivid imagination.
“Alright, you’re a funny drunk,” he comments with a shake of his head. “What’s your address?” he repeats his question.
“Home,” I say with a big grin, fisting his tee.
“Yeah, home. Where is it, Feather?” His questioning gaze darts between my eyes.
I point to my left, “There.”
“Okay…”
Furrowing my eyebrows, I shake my head again, and this time, I point in a different direction. “No, there.”
Ezra sighs, “Great. You don’t remember your way back.” He looks at me like he doesn’t know what to do with me.
Not liking his tired expressions one bit, I pull his cheeks into a smile, and his face looks comical, making me chortle. Yeah, the real Ezra would never let me do anything like this, let alone come this close to me of his own free will.
With a hand wrapped around my waist and my hand on his shoulder for support, he takes me to his car and drives us to God knows where. But for some reason, I don’t mind it in the slightest. I slump against the window, taking in the night city lights as the buildings flash by.
Guess we’re going home.