An uneasy sensation slides through me at the description of the blonde but I push it aside. What are the odds? And there are plenty of blonde team groupies out there. “Cute, huh?” I feign interest.
“Cute doesn’t begin to describe either of them. They’re complete opposites and completely hot.” Logan tilts his head back so it bumps the chair back. “I need to get laid,” he says at the ceiling. “I haven’t had sex as a twenty-one-year-old yet. I think tonight calls for a celebration of the get-laid kind.”
“I’m surprised there’s no girls here.” My teammates are known for having crazy parties with half-naked girls in attendance. Half the reason why I would never go—half-naked females coming at me used to scare the shit out of me.
They still make me uncomfortable because they always, always want something I can’t give them. Like my attention, my time. Forget that shit. There’s only one half-naked female I would welcome with open arms if she came at me right now.
And she hates me.
“Oh, the girls are coming later.” Logan smiles and closes his eyes. “Actually, we’re going to go and see them. Promise me you’ll come with us.”
“Uh…” Sounds like a nightmare.
Logan cracks open his eyes. “Promise me. I’ll start shouting and making a scene if you don’t promise.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go.” I have no idea what I just agreed to but it can’t be good, judging by the sight of the wide smile Logan’s wearing. Besides, he’ll probably shout and make a scene no matter what I say.
A tall dark-haired girl enters the private room, a smile curving her full red lips as she starts passing out the drinks from the heavy tray she carries. She comes to me after she empties her tray, her dark brown gaze connecting with mine. “Ah, a fresh face. I see you have a beer already, but do you need anything else? Something to eat, another drink?”
“Get him a shot,” Logan says, his voice already slurred. “Tequila. Patrón.”
She looks at me expectantly but she’s talking to Logan. “Only one shot, birthday boy?”
“Get us a round of eight.”
What the hell? “I’m not doing a bunch of shots with you. I don’t care if it’s your birthday or not.”
“Don’t be such a downer.” Logan waved a hand. “Eight shots of Patrón, pretty lady. Hey, what are you doing later? Wanna come with us when we take the party to our next stop?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Sorry, I work until one. I appreciate the offer, though.” Her gaze meets mine once more. “Another beer maybe?”
“Sure.” I shrug. I’ll do one shot and the second beer and then I’m done. Being drunk means being out of control and I don’t like that.
Turning on her heel, she threads her way through the crowded room, earning more than a few appreciative glances and low whistles. The minute she’s gone, they all start talking about her. Her ass, her tits, her pretty face.
“She has a mouth made for cock sucking,” Jace says with all the authority in the world.
I nod in agreement, feeling like an ass for even doing that. Put a bunch of guys together, fill them with alcohol and we turn into complete assholes.
“Wait till you see the other one,” Logan pipes up. “Talk about a mouth made for cock sucking. And from what I hear, she’s done that and more with a few lucky bastards that are here tonight.”
Laughter rings throughout the room. Logan says it loud enough and I know. I know without a doubt they’re talking about Fable. She admitted it to me when we were together. How she messed around with a few of my teammates but never took it too far.
Had she lied? Just trying to save face so she wouldn’t look like a slut? I don’t think she’s a slut.
You thought she was a slut when you hired her to be your fake girlfriend. That’s the reason you chose her.
I shove the irritating-as-shit voice out of my head and finish off my beer. The alcohol is already working its magic, sliding through my veins, buzzing through my head. Miss Tall, Dark and Pretty shows back up relatively quick, handing a fresh beer over to me with a smile before she lined up the eight shots of Patrón in front of Logan with a little flourish.
He immediately takes a near overflowing shot glass and raises it toward me. “Come on, Callahan.”
I grab one, a few other guys grab one as well and we’re all clinking glasses, saluting Logan before we down them simultaneously. The tequila burns down my throat and I grimace, laugh when Logan shoves another shot glass into my hand, and I toss that one back too.