Joey looks down at me, nostrils flaring. “He’s not going to talk to you like that. Let me handle this.”
“Oh, but I’d much rather Dylan handle me, Joey.” Bryce leans against the bar, his white polo shirt now stained light pink. “You want that, don’t you, baby? You want to handle me?”
“Fuck you, asshole. I really hope we’re all around to see you get your ass beat,” Juls says, grabbing mine and Joey’s elbows and tugging us back. Bryce’s smile touches his eyes, making them practically twinkle at the sentiment. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Just for the record: up close, you’re not hot,” Brooke adds behind us. I turn and see her flip him off over her shoulder.
I place my hand on Joey’s back, making sure he’s moving with me as we both follow Juls away from the bar and toward the entrance. “Goddamn it,” I utter to myself. Nothing would’ve pleased me more than to slap the snot out of that jerk. Well, except for maybe throwing my first punch. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything.
We all pile into the limo and as soon as we get situated, Brooke opens the liquor cabinet. “I don’t know about you three, but I need to get trashed.”
A collective “yeah” fills the inside of the limo. Alcohol after that encounter? Yes. Absolutely. I find the button that lowers the window dividing us and the driver, dropping it down. I meet the man’s eyes in the rear view mirror.
“Would you mind driving around for a while before you take us back to the house?” I ask him.
“Not at all, Miss.”
“I cannot wait until Reese finds out about this. That prick is going to get the ass-beating of the century,” Joey says, taking a champagne bottle from Brooke. She hands Juls and me ours after opening them.
“Reese isn’t finding out about his,” I inform him after taking a swig. I glance between the three pairs of eyes on me, all filled with concern. “I mean it. This account he and Ian have with Bryce is important enough for Reese to put aside his hate for that asshole and actually work with him. If we say anything, he’ll drop the account for sure, and most likely go to prison for murder. He doesn’t need to know. Nothing happened.”
Juls taps her free hand nervously on her knee. “Shit. That account is huge. Ian said it’s the biggest one their company has taken on. They’re going to make an insane amount of money off it.”
“Who gives a shit about the money?” Joey asks with a clipped tone. “That prick seriously crossed the line, and Reese needs to know about it.”
“Joey, please, let it go.” My voice is firm and final. I can’t have Reese finding out about this; he will surely go homicidal on Bryce’s ass. And it really wasn’t that big a deal, so there’s no reason to involve him. Nothing happened.
“Fine. Whatever.” Joey tips his bottle back, taking several loud chugs. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he finishes. “How many bottles are in there, Brooke?”
Brooke opens the cabinet and ducks her head inside. “A lot. It’s fully stocked.”
“Good,” he says.
“Good,” Juls echoes.
“Fucking great,” Brooke adds.
I take a massive drink, letting the alcohol burn away the memory of those sinister, yellow eyes.
Each and every bottle that the limo came stocked with is emptied, and the mood inside the vehicle elevates with each sip taken. There’s dancing, laughing, and Brooke, who cracks us up with her recount of the face shot heard round the world. When we’re all fully tipsy, giggling loudly in the back and falling all over each other, the limo comes to a stop.
“Oh, my God. This was so much fun,” I choke out, wiping underneath my eyes. I am way past the point of tipsy, as is everyone else in the vehicle.
“Brooke, you are fabulous. Any time you want to come out with us, feel free,” Joey slurs out. “That cum-shot story won me over.”
She smiles up at him, pushing her curly brown hair out of her face. “Even though my eye is still slightly blurry, that guy can come at me any time. He was smoking hot.” Slapping her hand over her mouth, she spits out a laugh. “Psst! Get it? Come at me!”
Hysterical laughter fills the limo as the door opens, prompting Brooke and Juls to climb off the floor they had slid onto sometime during our joy ride.
“If you still want a bed, Brooke, you can share ours,” Joey says as he crawls along the seat to the open door. “But I’m sleeping in the middle. Nobody touches my baby.”
Brooke’s mouth drops open. “Really? We get to snuggle?”