“You invited me, didn’t you?”
“We did, but if you don’t check that asshole attitude at the door, you can just turn around and take a long walk off a short cliff. Preferably somewhere where there are crocodiles. And piranhas,” she added.
Fox snorted beside me. “I like her already.”
I really didn’t like hearing Fox say that for some reason. Annoyance oozed from my pores. “Grace is my brother’s old lady. Don’t you even fuckin’ look at her.”
Fox rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Shade.”
I jabbed the button again, holding it down as I spoke. “Sorry, babe. Not much in the party mood.”
She sighed and I remembered I was supposed to be working on that whole babe thing. Typical chicks, always trying to fuckin’ change who you were.
“Showing up is a good start, Kelly,” she replied. “Come on in.”
The buzzer sounded along with a loud click indicating the doors had unlocked to let us through. I frowned as we stepped inside. There was an underlying exhaustion in Grace’s voice. I didn’t like hearing it. She told me she was starting a degree at uni in a couple of months. I had no clue how she was gonna manage it with being sick how she was but she said she was starting off part-time. Eventually she’d major in public relations and end up working for Jamieson when she graduated. I had no idea what public relations was, but I told her if she ever wanted to study private relations, I was her man. That statement had the added effect of pissing Casey off which was always fun.
Reaching the loft door, I knocked and some chick I didn’t know opened it rather than Grace like I was expecting. Heavy rock music thumped out from behind her, filling the hall and vibrating off the walls.
“I’m Kelly,” I told her. “Casey’s brother.”
She paused, raking me over. I felt the urge to close my eyes for a minute because she was so beautiful it almost blinded me to stare straight at her. If these were Grace’s friends, I needed to start coming to more of these parties.
Her blond hair hung in a long sheet, and her tight black jeans had zippers all over the front and from what I could see, they decorated her ass on the back too. I wondered briefly which of the zippers led to the Holy Grail. Who even cared? There would be a helluva lot of fun in finding the fuck out.
“Holy shit,” she declared when she was done with her quick inspection. “Grace was right.”
“About what?”
Her eyes dropped to my crotch for a split second. It was almost unnoticeable but I was watching her closely. My cock stirred happily at her interest. I grabbed it and smirked. “She tell you I was hung like a horse?”
Her brows rose coolly and damned if that didn’t make my dick harden even more. “Does that line work for you a lot?”
I grinned cockily. “With a face like this, babe, I don’t need lines.”
“Maybe not, but it sounds like your ego needs a kick in the ass.” I was suddenly dismissed, her eyes shifting to Fox on my right. They flared wide. “Luke?”
Fox grinned.
I looked at him. “You know this chick?”
“This chick,” she snapped, turning her fierce emerald eyes back on me, “has a name.”
I sighed heavily. Grace and her friends were high fuckin’ maintenance and we hadn’t even stepped in the damn door yet. Parties weren’t supposed to be this much hard work.
“Mackenzie Valentine,” Fox supplied and winked at the hot chick still barring us from coming inside. “We go way back, right, Mac?”
Her nostrils flared, indicating that way back part wasn’t sittin’ real well with her. “You’re a Sentinel now, Luke?”
Fox shrugged at her. “Have been for ten years.”
“Figures,” I heard her mumble.
After a pause, she swung the door wide, indicating for us to come in.
We stepped inside and I scanned the loft. The living area was full of standing or dancing bodies, the kitchen was littered with people getting drinks, the dining room with food, and even more people spilled onto the big deck out the back. “Where’s Grace?”
“She had to go do something,” Mac replied, shutting the door behind us. She pointed to the kitchen. “You can put your beer there, or there’s a big ice bucket out on the back deck. There’s food on the dining table if you’re hungry.” She also indicated to a big glass bowl shot with cloudy streaks of blue sitting on a cabinet by the wall. “Keys go in there.”
“The keys to my Harley are not goin’ in some fuckin’ bowl,” I told her, no matter how fancy it looked.
“We don’t tolerate drunk driving here,” she snapped. “Keys in the bowl now, biker dude. I decide who gets to drive at the end of the night, not you.”