I order our drinks with Angèle attached to my side, and I’m told someone will bring them over because I couldn’t possibly carry five glasses anymore. To be fair, I didn’t even need to come to the bar. Servers are everywhere.
I lead Angèle to our table, and we’re met by a frosty Texas. Milo is off dancing with someone already, and I can no longer see Cooper, so God knows where he followed that girl.
Angèle introduces herself to Tex, and while she’s polite, I can tell she doesn’t like someone else coming to our table straight off. Or coming to our table with me?
“I love it,” Tex replies in answer to Angèle asking if we’re enjoying Paris so far.
I get the feeling she added, Until you came along, in her head.
I look at them sitting next to each other, and all of a sudden, Angèle’s beauty is questionable. She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, but Texas is out of this world.
What the hell are you doing?
I rub a building ache between my eyes. I can’t want her. Why do we want what we can’t have?
I force a conversation with them both, and the whole time, Tex is avoiding eye contact with me. But Milo rescues me minutes later. Angèle is making Texas uncomfortable, and I don’t like it. Milo sits on the chair next to Angèle, so while he’s talking to her, I slip over to the one next to Tex.
I instantly relax. This is where I’m supposed to be.
Fuck it!
Tex looks over at me. She looks hurt, and I want to go up and throw myself from one of those cages. It’s like a knife to my chest.
I’m sorry. You have to forgive me.
Jesus, what are we doing here?
It’s like we’re opposite ends of magnets. I can’t help it. I need to be near her. Nothing feels more right than when we’re together. Since Christmas, something has drastically changed even if neither of us will admit it aloud.
“Are we getting drunk tonight?” I ask, slinging my arm over her chair. It’s a territorial move as well as one to show Angèle that she should absolutely keep flirting with Milo because I made a big mistake. This is where I need to be.
“We?” Texas wants me to clarify. In her mind, I’m already shagging Angèle.
I lean a fraction closer. “Me and you, Tex.” Always.
There’s a glimmer of forgiveness when her lips turn up into a beautiful little smile that lights up her eyes.
You. Are. Perfect.
And you are going to hell, Daniels.
“I can be corrupted.”
Oh, I hope so.
The server arrives with another tray, and I pass a drink to Texas. “To us getting drunk,” I say.
“To not being able to stand later.” She necks the drink and looks longingly at the empty glass, wanting another.
That’s my girl.
My girl?
Two hours later and it’s just me and Tex around the table. She looks up and her eyes bulge. “Cooper is in a cage!”
Milo has left the club with two girls—I’ve never seen anyone smile so much—and Cooper is apparently in a cage.
I swing my head up, and sure enough, he’s being straddled by a girl in a cage. The dancers are gone now, so everyone else is allowed up there to dance.
I won’t be going.
Coop’s shirt is undone, and his arms are stretched out to either side as he holds on to the bars. The blonde is going for it, rubbing her arse in his crotch and giving the dancers a run for their money.
Tex shakes her head. “How can she dance so sexily and elegantly in a swinging cage? I can’t even walk properly on a sloped path.”
Laughing, I chuck my arm over her chair. “I’d make a dick of myself up there, too.”
A slow grin spreads across her lips. “Want to come up with me?”
“Nope.” I take a swig of my beer.
“Come on. This club is invite-only, so there won’t be people taking pictures. Besides, no one is really looking up there.”
“You did.”
“Because I saw Cooper going up there. I dare you, Daniels.”
Maybe I will be going.
I stand up and see panic in her eyes. She didn’t think I’d go through with it. I love our bets, and I never back down.
She gets up and keeps her back straight to appear confident, but her breath wavers with nerves.
Angèle comes over from her table of friends and stops beside us. “Are you dancing, Kitt?”
Tex’s face falls, and she goes to sit down. Without thinking, I step closer to Tex, my hand circles her wrist, and I haul her into my body. I don’t want to dance with Angèle. I want Texas.
I always fucking want Texas.
“We are,” I say, giving Angèle a polite smile so that she knows me and her isn’t happening.
She looks at Texas and back to me. Her eyebrow quirks, like she doesn’t think Tex is good enough, and then she walks off.
I grit my teeth. Now, I don’t give a shit about what people think of me, but there is no one better than the girl leaning on my chest, looking up at me.
“Ready?” I ask.
Instead of responding, she stares, and it silences the whole room. There is no noise and no people. Just me and her.
“Take me then,” she whispers.
I groan. Fuck, I would love to hear her moan that in bed. Doesn’t even have to be in bed. Anywhere. Literally.