by Harlow James
“Seriously? We’re going to be with him at the club. You couldn’t wait to see him then?” she whines just as my best friend with his shit-eating grin glides up to our table.
“And miss out on all of the fun? No way, Beaverly.” Hayes looks down at Waverly as I watch her narrow her eyes and clench her teeth together.
With a flick of her hair over her shoulder, she turns to face him and I swear, if looks could kill, Hayes would be on the floor in a second. “Don’t. Fucking. Call. Me. That.” The sound of her disdain for Hayes is enough to catch the attention of Shayla and Chloe and radiate tension throughout the table.
“Language, language, young lady. You really should take a few lessons in manners,” he jokes as he slides into the side of the booth that Chloe is sitting on.
“Bite me, Hayes,” my sister fires back in her usual rebuttal.
“Just tell me where, sweetheart.”
Chloe eyes Hayes studiously from her seat next to him. “I’m sensing some blatant sexual tension here between the two of you.”
Waverly nearly spits out the mouthful of water she just took in. “Ha! That will never happen.”
Hayes laughs dramatically. “I know you’re new to the group, sweetheart, but Beaverly and I like each other about just as much as oil and water.”
“Could have fooled me.” Chloe shrugs just as Shayla clears her throat beside me.
The waiter asks if we would like to order something from the bar, but I can sense we need a few more minutes. I ask the waiter to come back, so he saunters off to help other guests.
“Hayes, this is Chloe, Shayla’s best friend,” I say, gesturing to the brunette sitting next to him. “And this is Shayla,” I announce proudly, leaning over to plant a kiss on Shayla’s cheek.
“Nice to meet you both, ladies. Hayes Weston at your service.” He shakes both of their hands and then eyes Shayla curiously. “You’ve been treating my boy well?”
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with how he’s treating me?” she fires back, making me laugh.
Hayes shakes his head. “Nope. Wes is my man. If it weren’t for the fact that I happen to love the female population, I’d probably date the man myself. Hence why his happiness is my first priority.”
“Please refrain from enlightening us on your fantasies about my brother,” Waverly interjects.
“Jealous that he’s the Morgan I’d rather have, Beaverly?”
Waverly huffs just as Chloe smirks at everyone. “Man, I think we all need some alcohol stat.”
“Order a glass of wine,” I whisper in Shayla’s ear, resting my hand on her thigh in reassurance. After I fucked her in the shower earlier, we talked some more about my confession. I knew that I needed to tell her, but like I said, I don’t want her to feel like she can’t drink and have fun on account of me.
Being here in Vegas again had my anxiety spiking all week. I knew it would be difficult, but I never imagined snapping like that. And to do it in front of Shayla—yeah, there wasn’t any way I was going to get out of that mess without telling her the truth.
But I meant what I said earlier to her—that I somehow feel lighter now that she knows. Perhaps telling her everything in a few weeks won’t be as horrible as I thought if her reaction played out the way that it did with just that detail of my life.
“Okay. If you insist.” She winks at me and then leans forward to speak to Chloe. “What wine are you getting Chloe?”
“Well, I’m not much of a wine buff, you know that. Something light to start off with, I suppose.”
“Well, if you’re going to go that route, I recommend the Fruliano.” A voice I haven’t heard in months captures the entire table’s attention as the owner leans casually against the wooden pillars encasing the end cap of the booth.
“Silas!” Hayes shouts, standing up and pulling the other leg of our tri-pod in for a hug. I casually ask Waverly to slide out of her end so I can also greet the man as well.
“Damn, Wes. You look old,” he mocks as I take my turn for a hug.
“I tried to tell him that he’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t stop working so hard,” Shayla chimes in, drawing Silas’s attention.
“Oh, calling you out? I like her already.” He reaches over the table and holds his hand out to Shayla’s. “Silas De Luca. Nice to meet you.”
“Shayla Mitchel,” she replies.
“Silas, this is my girlfriend, Shayla.” I introduce her proudly, loving how owning her with that label brings pride through my chest every time.
Silas’s face showcases his surprise. “Girlfriend, huh? Seems a lot has changed in the past few months.”
“That it has. But seems business is good,” I say as I survey the restaurant outside of our room, noting how almost every table and booth is filled.
“That it is, brother. Vegas has always been one of the most prosperous locations, naturally,” he boasts as I look down and notice Chloe gaping up at him. Her eyes flicker to me for a moment as if she’s been caught and then pulls herself together.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need to know more about this wine, please,” she purrs as Hayes and I share a knowing glance.
Silas pinpoints Chloe with his stare and I can see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Silas is the type to look, but not touch. He’s far too driven to get distracted by women, always has been. His one serious relationship ended several years ago and he’s rarely dated since. And besides, Chloe would chew him up and spit him out so fast, he’d be left spinning for days.
I slide back in the booth as Waverly follows, and then Silas takes Hayes’ seat just as his phone rings and he moves to the other side of the room to take the call.
“Well, a Fruliano is an Italian white wine that boasts flavors of jasmine and narcissus, orange zest, figs, and green apples.” Just his description alone and the way it rolls off of his tongue in a slight accent has me itching to try it, even though I know I won’t.
“Sounds delicious,” Chloe replies suggestively, her eyes bouncing all over his face.
“But it’s the silky texture that will have you reaching for more. It goes down so smooth, leaving delicate flavors and scents on your palate before following with a slightly bitter almond aftertaste.”
Chloe reaches up and smooths the lapel of his dark grey suit jacket. “Well, I think you should join us for a glass then.”
Silas chuckles. “I’d love to, but duty calls. I’m here to check on the restaurant and I have to meet with my managers in about an hour,” he explains as he glances down at his wrist watch and then back up to Chloe, who’s licking her lips.
She’s acting like one of those women Hayes and I encounter all the time, the ones I just roll my eyes at. But, Chloe has class in an off-beaten way, particularly with the way she sits high in the booth, her navy dress clinging to her body as she flirts with my friend.
“We’re going to Omnia at Caesar’s after this. Maybe you can stop by?” Hayes interrupts as he finishes up his call and Silas moves to stand from the booth, vacating Hayes’ spot.
“Omnia, huh?”
“Yeah, I just invested. Las Vegas Magazine just named it one of the top thirteen best nightclubs in Vegas, man.”
“Top Thirteen? What kind of list is that?” my sister interjects as Hayes glares at her.
“A badass one. Who has a Top Thirteen list? Anyone who doesn’t believe in any of that Hocus Pocus shit and a place like Vegas where that number actually can be good luck.”
Waverly laughs as the waiter comes back to our table and Silas moves to the side. “I’ll let you guys know if I can make it.”
“Sounds good, man,” I reply. “And hey, the restaurant looks great. Morgan Hotels is proud to partner with you, Mr. De Luca.” I flash him a wink just as his eyes dip down and linger on Chloe for a moment before he’s turning and striding back into the kitchen.
Chloe starts fanning herself with the menu. “Holy fuck! That man was hot. Who the hell was that?”
“Our buddy Sil
as. We’ve known him since high school. He owns this restaurant and about a hundred others across the globe. We actually have several Al Forno’s in Morgan Hotels.”
I watch Chloe’s eyes grow wide as saucers. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope,” Hayes replies as we take turns spouting off our drink order to the waiter. When he leaves he continues. “Silas is the best, but you might be too much for him, Chloe.”
“Me? Too much?” she questions sarcastically.
Hayes takes a sip of his water and then drops his eyes up and down Chloe’s figure. “Yeah. I know when I can sense a personality like mine in its female counterpart, and I hate to break it to you girl, but people like you and I can be too much for some people.”
“As if I’ve never heard that before,” Chloe replies with a roll of her eyes.
“Chloe, he said he might meet up with us later at the club. Maybe you can actually talk to him a bit when he gets there,” Shayla counters while encouraging semi-normal behavior from her best friend, a task I can definitely sympathize with.
“I don’t want to talk, Shayla. I need some dick. I’m in Vegas and I’m going to get plastered, and getting fucked two ways to Sunday would be the cherry on top of this trip.” The waiter comes by to deliver our drinks just as those words leave Chloe’s mouth and his cheeks turn bright red.
“Sorry, Chloe, but Silas isn’t that type of guy,” I chime in. We thank the waiter and then ask him to come back for our food order. At this rate, we’re going to be here until midnight.
“You know you’re only posing more of a challenge when you say that, Wes,” she replies, defiance filling her voice.
“The woman has a point,” Hayes agrees.
“It’s like talking to the same person,” Shayla whispers in my ear as I nod.
“Told ya.”
“Will everyone stop talking for two seconds so we can order some damn food, please!” Waverly shouts, effectively shutting the rest of us up. “I’m about two seconds away from eating my own arm and there is not enough alcohol to make this evening look up.” She reaches for her mojito and drains the glass without ever removing her lips from her straw. My little sister is obviously irritated and not her bubbly self, a common occurrence when Hayes is around unfortunately. But maybe once we eat and get to the club things will calm down.
“We’d better feed Beaverly before she starts gnawing on the table,” Hayes teases as my sister clenches her empty glass in her hands.
I place my hand on her arm, pulling her attention to me. “I’m sorry, Wave. You’re right. I think everyone can agree that we’re hungry, right?” I nod to Shayla and Chloe as they reciprocate eagerly.
Chloe scours the menu and then turns down her lips. “I don’t see a hunky Italian man on the menu anywhere here, Wes. I may not find anything to appease my appetite at this point.”
Shayla and I both laugh as we decide what to eat and pray we make it through the night with the shitshow we call our friends.
***
We arrive at the club around eleven thirty, later than we anticipated, but the party is in full swing. The intense bass of the music pounds against my chest as I clutch Shayla’s hand in mine and our group follows Hayes up to the second floor where the VIP booths are located. On the drive over here, Hayes and I discussed some business details while the girls chatted on the other side of the limo, so I’m eager to see just what Hayes’ money is going toward.
Despite my reservations of coming here, the temptation to drink hasn’t struck, especially because having Shayla by my side reminds me why I need to be sober—not only for myself, but also for her.
As we climb a few flights of stairs, the massive kinetic chandelier hanging from the ceiling that the club is known for flashes a spectacle of lights as the patterns and colors change to the beat of the song thumping in the space.
Once we’re securely inside our personal booth, a cocktail waitress appears and takes our drink order. My sister is already buzzing from her three drinks at dinner, and Shayla seems relaxed after her two glasses of wine. Chloe is like a hunter seeking its prey, moving past the idea of Silas to stoke out her new options for this evening as her eyes eat up any man that walks past us.
The view from up here is astounding. Bodies grind and jump around on the dance floor below us, but there is definitely more space between people up where we are. The champagne colored booth shines in the lights flashing and the table in the center is already stocked full of bottles of vodka, tequila, and mixers.
I take my sparkling water from the waitress as Hayes comes up to me clutching a glass of whiskey. We’re standing just at the edge of our sectioned off booth. I peer back behind me to see Shayla, Chloe, and my sister giggling while sitting huddled together on the booth. I’m grateful that she and my sister have hit it off, because if that weren’t the case, it would definitely be a problem.
“I like her.”
I glance at my best friend as we stand next to each other, surveying the crowd. “So do I.”
“I can tell. You were right, Wes. She’s different. And she gives you shit, which I find fucking hilarious.” He grins before taking a sip of his drink.
“I’m sure that’s one of the only qualifications you’re looking for in a woman for me.”
He places a hand on my shoulder. “Not the only one, but a big one.”
“I told her about my alcoholism tonight,” I admit as his face registers my words.
“Shit. Really?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to be in a place like Vegas and not explain why you’re not drinking. Also, I may have freaked the fuck out when we got to our suite and there was alcohol in there.”
“Yikes. How’d she take it?”
I shake my head. “Compassionately. I don’t fucking deserve her, Hayes.” I glance back over my shoulder to watch her, appreciating not only her beauty but her heart.
“Yes, you do, Wes. You know how this all started because I was pushing you to get your dick wet, and usually that’s my main priority?”
I scoff. “I’m aware.”
“Well, obviously there was more to that connection you felt in the club that night. I mean, hell, who would have known that the bartender from Loft 24 would be the woman that you’re supposed to be with?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s not the first time it’s gone off tonight, but it’s the first time I’m acknowledging it. I pull it out and see a name on the screen I haven’t seen since the day of the gala.
“What the fuck is she calling for?” Hayes asks as he peers over and registers the caller as well.
“The hell if I know. It can’t possibly be business related. It’s after midnight.” I let it continue to ring and then put my phone back in my pocket.
“That’s fucking weird. Does Shayla know about her?”
“No. Yet another thing I need to tell her.”
“You sure have a lot of secrets to divulge, my friend.” He clasps my shoulder again. “I don’t envy you at all.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Does Shayla know that you saw her at Loft 24 before you officially met too?” he asks just as her voice breaks through our conversation.
“Wait. What?”
I turn to see her hovering behind us, her eyes full of intrigue when I realize that she just overhead what Hayes said. “When… when were you at Loft 24?”
“Shit,” Hayes mutters before pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Shayla …”
“Were you… were you stalking me or something? Is that how you knew where I worked, or that I run on the beach? Was I just some conquest for you?”
“What? Shayla, no. It’s not like that …”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbles and then spins on her heels, rushing out of the VIP area and down a hallway.
“Fuck.” I set my drink down and race after her, sliding between people as I try to keep my eye on her while she runs away from me, pushes me away yet again.
“Shayla!�
� I call after her as I see her shove through the doors to the outdoor balcony. I follow close by until I see her duck into a corner that is partially secluded from the rest of the crowd, bracing herself on the railing that lines the rooftop of the club.
“Shayla.” I reach for her arm but she flinches, glaring up at me with tears in her eyes.
“What the fuck, Wes?”
“Do you really want to have this conversation out here?”
She turns and crosses her arms over her chest, tapping her toe against the concrete. “Yes. I do.”
“Fine. Yes, I saw you at Loft 24 before we ever met.”
Her mouth falls open, but then she’s angry again. “Did you ever plan on telling me this?”
“Yes. I just didn’t know how or when.”
She shakes her head. “So you knew who I was when we met.”
“Yes. And that first night I saw you, I couldn’t look away. But I wasn’t in the right headspace. I didn’t want to pursue someone that worked at a club when I was headed to Santa Barbara the following week to work on a new project for months.”
Her eyes flash with awareness. “Wait. When were you there?”
“The beginning of August. I met Hayes one night since he was considering investing in the club. We sat in a booth for a few hours and caught up, but I kept watching you behind the bar, mesmerized by how beautiful you were.”
Her face falls and then she’s gasping. “You’re Mr. Suit.”
“What?” I ask, now more thoroughly confused.
“I felt you,” she whispers. “I could feel you watching me.”
Closing my eyes, I exhale, realizing that this pull I felt to her wasn’t one-sided. “I’ve never felt that before, the intensity with which you captivated me that night. And then I stumbled into a local coffee shop a week later in Santa Barbara and you were there. I was stunned. I never imagined seeing you again. And then we ran into each other on the beach and started dating, and I swear, the pull to you was too strong to ignore.”
I pull her into me as her arms wrap around my neck. “Wes …”
“I’m falling for you, Shayla… so hard that it fucking terrifies me. You changed my world with just one glance in a dimly lit club. And now all I’m asking is for you to let me love you. Let me show you that I don’t take our relationship lightly. I’m not trying to manipulate you or coerce you into loving me, but by letting you in, I’m allowing something incredible to grow between us. I confessed a huge part of me to you tonight, and I want to give you more. But this won’t work if you keep fighting me every time something gives you a sliver of doubt to cling onto.”
