Chapter 5 #2
The interior of the car suddenly feels too small, too confined.
I press the heels of my palms against my eyes hard enough to see bursts of light behind my closed lids.
This has to be Logan and Ethan. Who else would do something this monumentally stupid?
But how the hell did they access my Obsidian account?
The security protocols there are military-grade, designed specifically for men like me who require absolute discretion.
My fingers hover over the screen, tempted to call them immediately and unleash hell. But I decide this is best to handle in person.
I peel out of my driveway, the Audi's engine roaring as I push well beyond the speed limit. The streets blur past, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. One-point-two million dollars. For a virgin. In my name. The absurdity of it would be laughable if I wasn't so goddamn furious.
The drive to McCabe's takes half the time it should.
I pull into the parking lot with a screech of tires, barely remembering to lock the car as I stride toward the entrance.
The bouncer nods in recognition—I've been coming here for years with Logan and Ethan—and steps aside without a word, sensing my thunderous mood.
Inside, the familiar sounds and smells assault my senses: classic rock thrumming through expensive speakers, the rich tang of aged whiskey mingling with craft beer, low conversation punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter from the corner booths.
I spot Logan and Ethan immediately at our usual table in the back.
Ethan has a redhead practically draped across his lap, her manicured hand resting on his chest, laughing at something undoubtedly charming he just said.
I head straight to the bar instead. I need alcohol coursing through my system before I deal with those idiots, or I might actually commit homicide in a public place.
The bartender notices me immediately, a young woman with a silver nose ring and intricate sleeve tattoos climbing up both arms. "What can I get you?" she asks, efficiently wiping her hands on a small towel tucked into her apron.
"Whisky on the rocks," I tell her, my voice tight with barely controlled rage.
"Sure, sweetie." She grabs a crystal tumbler and drops in a few ice cubes with practiced precision.
"Make it a double," I add when she reaches for the bottle of Macallan.
Her eyes flick to mine, assessing my mood, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Rough night already? It's barely nine." "You could say that." My clipped tone doesn't invite further conversation, and I'm in no mood for small talk.
She pours generously, then slides the glass toward me with a practiced flick of her wrist. "I'm a good listener if you need one," she offers with a hint of flirtation in her voice.
She's cute, I notice distantly. Warm brown eyes, full lips. Too young, though. Probably mid-twenties. And I'm definitely not in the mindset for this shit right now. I hand her my platinum card. "Open a tab," I say, taking the drink and turning away without waiting for a response.
I down half the whisky in one swallow as I walk toward our table.
The alcohol burns a satisfying path down my throat, doing absolutely nothing to cool my temper.
When I reach them, I slam the half-empty glass down hard enough to make everyone at the table jump and conversations nearby momentarily pause.
The redhead startles, her hand flying to her chest. She's cute, generously curved in all the right places, with long auburn hair cascading down her back. Any other night I might have appreciated the view, but right now I couldn't care less if she was Miss Universe.
"Please excuse us," I say to her, my voice deceptively calm, the kind of calm that anyone who knows me recognizes as dangerous.
She looks at Ethan uncertainly. He nods reassuringly, so she sashays away toward the bar, throwing one last curious glance over her shoulder at our table.
I take a seat, setting my elbows on the polished wood table and leaning forward menacingly. "I could fucking kill you two with my bare hands right now."
Logan raises his eyebrows, the picture of practiced innocence. "Why? What did we do this time?"
"Yeah, and it better be good," Ethan adds, looking genuinely annoyed. "She was a sure thing. Already suggested getting out of here."
"Oh, this is good," I say, seething with a rage I can barely contain.
"So I got an email from Obsidian before I left the house.
" They exchange quick, guilty glances, confirming my suspicion instantly.
"And imagine my surprise when I found out I won an auction.
For a virgin. For one-point-two million fucking dollars. "
They both burst into uproarious laughter, Logan nearly choking on his craft beer, while Ethan slaps the table with genuine amusement.
"This is not funny," I growl, my voice dropping dangerously low, the way it does when I'm about to lose my temper completely.
"Bro, don't worry about it," Logan says, wiping beer from his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're paying for it. Consider it an early birthday present."
That takes some of the wind out of my sails, but not much.
"That's not exactly the point." I have the money, that's not the problem.
I could buy ten virgins if I wanted to. But I don't appreciate them making decisions about my sex life like I'm some project they need to fix.
"I don't want a fucking virgin," I say, emphasizing each word.
"Why not?" Logan smirks, leaning back in his chair with infuriating smugness. "Virgins are..." He brings his fingers to his mouth in an exaggerated chef's kiss, his restaurant owner instincts showing.
"This is it," I say, my patience snapping like a dry twig.
"You two have crossed the line. I don't want to fuck random women, be hooked up, date, or anything else you think I need.
If either of you try to set me up again, I'm knocking you both the fuck out.
I don't care how long we've been friends. "
"Dom," Ethan says reasonably, while Logan continues to laugh like this is the funniest thing he's heard all year. "If you don't want to do it, just back out. At least check her out, though—she's fucking hot. Like, seriously stunning. If you decide to go through with it, it's completely on us."
“I'm definitely not doing it. I don't care how hot she is—she's a virgin.
" I down the rest of my whiskey and slam the glass on the table with enough force to make the ice cubes rattle.
"So she's either way too fucking young for me, or there's something seriously wrong with her if she's a virgin our age.
And now I have to figure out how to back out of this shit without creating a mess I'll have to clean up later. "
Ethan at least has the decency to look somewhat apologetic, his eyes dropping to his drink momentarily, while Logan just grins like this is the funniest prank they've ever pulled. The bar's ambient noise seems to fade as my irritation grows.
"I don't need this shit right now," I continue, my voice tightly controlled, jaw clenched.
"I'm busy trying to get all my work done before Harper comes for the summer.
The Peterson project is behind schedule, the downtown renovation needs revised plans by Monday, and I've got three client meetings this week alone. "
That gets their attention. Logan's smirk drops as he leans forward, fingers playing with the condensation on his glass. "Oh shit, when's Harper coming? I missed her last summer because I was opening that restaurant in Santa Barbara."
"Two weeks," I say, feeling some of the tension leave my body at the thought of my daughter. My shoulders relax slightly as I check my watch. "And her friend is coming this time too. Harper insisted."
"Is she cute?" Logan asks, eyebrows raised suggestively, a familiar predatory gleam in his eyes.
I shoot him a withering look that could freeze hell itself. "Don't even think about it. She's Harper's age and her best friend. Harper would murder you in your sleep, and I'd help her hide the body."
"So yeah," I continue, drumming my fingers against the table, "now I have to deal with this virginity auction bullshit on top of my already packed schedule. I need another drink."
"On it." Logan jumps up, clearly eager to escape my wrath, and heads to the bar, weaving through the Saturday night crowd with practiced ease.
Ethan leans in once Logan's safely out of earshot, his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "Sorry, man. Logan talked me into it to fuck with you, but seriously, the deal says either party can back out for any reason. You can do it right away or at the initial meet. No obligations."
"Initial meet?" I ask, my brow furrowing, one hand absently straightening my tie.
"So this one is set up for you to meet for like a mini date just to make sure you're compatible before going through with everything. Sort of a safety valve built into the system."
I nod slowly, considering the implications.
"Oh okay, yeah. I can meet her and explain the situation to her so she doesn't take it wrong and get her feelings hurt.
" The last thing I need is some young, vulnerable virgin thinking she did something wrong when it's these two idiots who are to blame. "At least I can make this right."