Riley’s face took on a softness. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t have any real experience. I studied science, planning to go on to vet school. After graduation, I realized what I really want to do is open a bakery. I mean, I think I knew that all along, but just never let myself admit it. You know?” Her shoulders relaxed as she talked. With the conversation on what she loved, she’d entered her element.
“I do know,” I agreed. I wasn’t a man prone to questioning my own motives, but I could clearly see how others made it a habit. It was an unfortunate way to live.
“My parents were pretty annoyed. But it’s not like I ever had the chance to even talk about what I wanted. They both want me to be a veterinarian, simply because that’s what they are.” Riley downed half her drink. Judging by how quickly she was chilling out, it was a safe bet that she didn’t drink much.
“You run this club all by yourself?” Ann-Marie asked me.
“No. There’s a manager. And technically, I only own one-fourth of it. It’s more of a hobby than an actual business endeavor.”
The track faded into the next one, and Ann-Marie’s knees bounced.
“You should go dance,” Riley told her.
She quickly shook her head and darted her eyes in my direction. “I’m good.”
Riley swirled the small amount of liquid left in her glass. “You clearly want to dance.”
“Come with me.”
Riley laughed. “In this skirt? With my two left feet? Yeah, right. Just go.”
I got the sense the conversation was about to turn personal. Hooking my elbow over the couch’s armrest, I gazed out across the bottom floor. Half a dozen more people had entered the club. I didn’t see any sign of Julian, though he should have been here by now.
“We’re supposed to stick together,” I heard Ann-Marie say.
“We are,” Riley argued.
“I think you’ve had a bit much to drink.”
A heavy pause followed, then some murmuring I didn’t understand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ann-Marie get up and leave the table.
“Everything all right?” I asked Riley.
Her cheeks flushed, and she gave me a tight smile. “She just worries a lot. But it’s fine. She’s like this all the time.”
“It’s nice that you have someone to worry about you.”
Riley looked at me like she’d never considered the thought. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
I clasped my hands together and leaned forward. “Trust me. It is.”
Riley stared at me, confusion on her face. She couldn’t understand why I’d said what I did.
Neither could I.
Clearing my throat, I straightened my back. “Would you care for a private tour?”
She glanced over her shoulder at Ann-Marie, who danced with a guy I didn’t recognize. “I don’t want to worry...”
I reached out and took Riley’s hand. Instead of pulling away, like I half expected her to, she leaned toward me. The table between us was narrow, with little more than a foot separating the couches.
“I’ll make it worth your time.”
I didn’t know if she could even hear me over the music, but the look on her face provided the only answer I needed. Her lips parted and her eyes half closed. I bridged the rest of the space between us and pressed my mouth to hers. The softest lips I’d ever experienced gave against mine, and heat shot through my mouth and down to my dick.
I lifted my free hand up and pushed my fingers through her hair. Riley’s lips opened more, inviting me to seize new territory. But just as I slid my tongue across her teeth, she pulled back. Her mouth broke away from mine, and her hair left my fingers.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Her brow furrowed like she was in pain. “I’m sorry. It’s late, and I really need to go.”
My whole chest seemed to spasm. “We don’t have to—”
“It’s fine,” she hurriedly said, not looking at me. She grabbed both her and Ann-Marie’s purses and stood up. “Thanks for the drink. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I really need to go.”
I made my voice as smooth as I could. “Riley.”
But she was already rushing away. I sat and watched as she grabbed Ann-Marie’s arm. The redhead shot me a quick glance and nodded. I stood as they passed the table.
“Thanks for an awesome night.” Ann-Marie smiled. “I had fun!”
I opened my mouth, but it was bone dry as the girls rushed down the stairs and vanished. A strange, new kind of adrenaline pulsed through me and I clenched my hands.
I’d been rejected.
A ball of fury spun in my chest. I knocked back the rest of my drink and slammed the glass on the table before stalking for the door on the far wall. Damian, one of the security guards, nodded and opened the door for me.
I moved down the short hallway and threw the door to the second office open. It hit the wall with a bang.
“Jesus. What’s wrong with you?”
Julian sat on the leather couch, his arms crossed and his feet up on the coffee table. Behind him, lights from the building across the street illuminated the window. In front of him, the wall-mounted flat-screen simultaneously showed four different sections of the club. I gave the screen a quick scan but didn’t see Riley or Ann-Marie. They’d left the club for good.
“You’re just up here watching the security cameras?” I growled.
“And waiting for something good to happen.”
I crossed the room and helped myself to a drink at the bar. “You might as well go home. It’s a bust down there.”
He chuckled. “No prospects this evening?”
I downed a gulp of vodka and joined him on the couch. “All these girls are so stuck-up.”
Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. Plenty of girls might be stuck up, but not Riley. She didn’t leave because she had a stick up her ass. She left because she was… what? Afraid? Nervous?
“If you’re in need, you know where to look.”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. My eyes drifted over to the desk and the computer sitting there. “Has anyone been added?”
Julian shrugged. “Don’t know.”
I set my drink down next to his feet. “That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar coffee table.”
“And these are three-and-a-half-thousand-dollar loafers. Go pull up the list.”
His stupid comeback pulled a chuckle out of me. Even when I sank into my worst moods, Julian’s nonchalance had a way of smoothing me over. I went and settled myself at the desk, then typed in the password to get myself to the computer’s home screen. Once there, I used a second password to open the file.
There was only one copy. It was an agreement the four of us made when we were first kicking around the idea of starting a list. Just because we were all right with sharing information on the women we’d slept with didn’t mean that we were all right with the whole world knowing we did it. If people were aware of how readily my friends and I exchanged women, my real estate empire would take a blow that would be very difficult to recover from.
I performed a search for new information. Each subject came complete with a name, a short description, a photo, and information on where to find the woman. There was nothing new.
I pushed my chair back from the computer in disgust. It wouldn’t matter if there was a new girl on the list. I wouldn’t be interested in her, anyway.