The last place I want to be is a fucking nightclub, and if it weren’t for the scribbling in my notebook, I would’ve forgotten to come. For the first time in a long time, I’m cursing an event I remembered and pissed I didn’t forget.
I haven’t been in a place like this since I was . . . well, since I was the age of the people I’m surrounded by. Back then, I thought I was hot shit, but now I feel like someone’s dad who was sent along as a chaperone.
“Cam, here ya go.” Mason brings me a beer from the bar.
“Thanks, man.” I try to force a peaceful expression, but it doesn’t come easily, so I give up and move to conversation. “Blake, great job tonight.” I hold up my beer and tap bottles with the fighter. “You stayed on your feet. Textbook KO. Proud of you.”
“Thanks. I know you doubted me, but that’s cool.” He takes a swig of his beer. “I had enough confidence for the both of us.”
“Caleb, you’re up next.” I nod to the country boy. “You ready for a fight?”
“Like you have to ask.” He shakes his head, grinning.
This is a good group of fighters. They’re talented and hungry, and outside of Blake’s justifiable attitude toward UFL upper management, if we could infect some of the other fighters with this drive, we might have a chance of saving the organization.
“Yeah, well—”
“Excuse me.” A woman bumps me from behind. “Coming through.” She pushes past me to reach for the table and snags a half-empty drink. She holds the watered down concoction up and locks eyes with me with a sneer. “Don’t mind me.”
Did she just roll her eyes?
“I wouldn’t want to crash in on the hero worship.” She brings the drink to her lips.
“You sure that’s yours?” I motion to the cocktail glass.
She cocks a hip and stirs what’s left of her drink into a whirling pale purple vortex. “What kind of question is that? It’s in my hand, isn’t it?”
My eyes dart to Jonah, who appears to find something funny. I swing my gaze back to the woman, and something about the way she’s scowling makes me curious to how far I could push her.
“You left your drink alone on a table?”
“I do it all the time.” She dips her head to take a sip.
My hand shoots out and grabs the glass from her. “No.”
Her jaw falls open, and her eyes grow wide before they narrow. “Hey! That’s my dri—”
“You can’t drink this.” I hand the glass over to a passing cocktail waitress to take away.
“What the fuck?” Her glare follows the cocktail server until she’s out of view, and then she swings it back to me. “Who the fuck are you?”
It’s ridiculous, but even while this girl looks at me, probably wishing I were dead and yelling fuck in my face, I can’t help but think she’s a funny little thing.
“Oh.” Raven moves to stand between us, and something tells me she’s doing it to protect me. “Eve, this is Cameron Kyle, Jonah’s new boss.”
Apparently Jonah’s wife has some sway over this Eve girl as her expression relaxes a bit.
I nod. “Nice to mee—”
“You owe me a drink.”
“Saved your life. Way I see it you owe me a drink.”
Her shoulders pull back a fraction, accentuating her curves, of which she got more than her fair share. A hot pink top hugs her body to her waist where the hem meets a pair of blue jeans so tight it’s impossible not to imagine her naked. As hot as her body is, that’s not the most eye-catching thing about this girl. It’s her face, round and angelic, framed in golden blond hair with a thick curtain of bangs that touches her eyelashes, but nothing about the way she’s looking at me is angelic. She’s walking the thin line of becoming enraged. I can’t tell through the music, but if I had to go off expression alone, I’d bet money she’s growling.
“Puleaze.” She cocks a hip. “Saved my life?”
I shrug and pull my gaze away from her. Staring too long could give her the wrong idea. “How long was your drink sitting on the table?”
Her eyebrows drop low over her big blue eyes. Aw hell, I’m staring again. “What does that have to do—?”
“Did you even buy that drink yourself or did some guy bring it to you?”
“I’m a woman.” Her sweet face contorts with disgust. “I never buy my own drinks.”
“Yes.” I take her in again from hips to face. “I see that, but being a woman doesn’t mean you act like an idiot.”
She gasps, and someone nearby giggles while most of the guys cough on their laughter.
“Desperate dude wants to get laid”—I motion to her—“and sees a hot chick.”
Her mask of irritation gives way to a blush.
“She leaves her drink on the table.” I throw back a gulp of beer. “You connect the dots.”
“He’s right, Eve.” Jonah’s smiling.
She pins him with a glare. “Hey! I left my drink with you guys.” Her accusing finger points back and forth between everyone.