“Corona?” Jordan asked.
He knew damned well that’s what Gabe wanted. He’d been with the crew all summer.
“Yeah.”
Jordan disappeared beneath the bar and emerged with a bottle. He popped the cap and handed it to Gabe, who took a long swallow. It went down smooth. Good stuff.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his gaze on the sweet piece of ass beside him at the bar. Long, brown curls fell to the middle of her back, and her jeans clung to her curvy backside in a most distracting fashion. High-heeled sandals accentuated her long legs, which would look perfect wrapped around his hips. If the front of her looked half as spectacular as the back, he was definitely interested in hanging around a while longer. He wasn’t that exhausted.
Chapter 3
Melanie took the glass of whiskey out of Nikki’s hand. “You’ve had enough.” Even though they’d arrived in Nikki’s car, Melanie realized she’d be the designated the driver tonight, so she’d stopped drinking after one apple martini. They had a three-hour drive just to get home. But while Melanie showed restraint, Nikki used the open bar to its full potential. She had yet to request one of everything, but each time Shade laughed or said something loud enough for her to hear, Nikki ordered another drink.
Nikki stole a glance over Melanie’s shoulder at her current obsession, who had yet to notice her. Probably because she was standing out of his line of sight. His inattention had Nikki reliving her college party days—get drunk, sleep with some jerk, wake up not knowing where she was, call Melanie to come get her, cry on Melanie’s shoulder, eat chocolate ice cream, rinse and repeat. Melanie had thought Nikki had finally outgrown the pattern. Apparently not.
Melanie’s patience was at its limit. Nikki had behaved like a lunatic to get backstage and now she was too chicken to even approach the guy. Maybe if Melanie introduced her to Shade before she was completely wasted, she wouldn’t start throwing herself at the nearest dick, which happened to be attached to the greasy bartender. Determined that her friend would set her sights on more attractive man-meat, Melanie took her by the arm. She knew Nikki would lament for the next thirty years about how she’d missed her chance if she didn’t at least talk to Shade.
“Wait, wait,” Nikki pleaded as Melanie dragged her away from the bar. “I need to check my make-up first.”
When Melanie stopped in front of the lead singer of Sole Regret, Nikki’s elbow began to tremble uncontrollably in her hand. Shade paused in midsentence, his handsome face turned in their direction, and then he took a nonchalant swig of his beer. Melanie watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. She couldn’t tell for sure if she had his full attention because he was still wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night. He was taller than she’d imagined—over six feet—and built. Between all the booze and women, Melanie wondered how he found the time to work out. But he had to. Black leather pants clung to muscular thighs, and his white T-shirt strained to contain his well-defined chest as he moved his beer bottle away from his sensual mouth.
“Hi,” Melanie gushed before she lost her nerve. She now understood why Nikki had needed copious liquid courage. Intimidating? That was an understatement. “I’m Melanie and this is my best friend, Nikki.” Melanie tugged Nikki forward. Nikki tripped over her own feet, and Shade took her by one shoulder to steady her.
Nikki swayed toward him and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “I don’t feel so good.”
The only thing worse than having Nikki miss her chance at talking to Shade would be Nikki throwing up all over him.
“Are you gonna be sick?” Shade asked, setting his beer down on the table he was leaning against and taking her by both shoulders.
“I think . . . ” Nikki swallowed queasily. “I think I need to lie down for a bit.”
“I’ll take her home,” Melanie said. She should have cut her off from the alcohol earlier.
“No,” Nikki said and stomped on Melanie’s foot. “I’ll be okay. It’s just a little loud in here.” She glanced up at Shade, her long lashes obscuring her eyes, her body in a completely submissive stance. “Is there a place where I can lie down for a bit?” she asked. “With you on top of me?”
Melanie blinked and turned her head to mouth, Wow.
“If you bring your friend with you,” Shade said.
Melanie’s head snapped up. Was he serious? “Having kinky sex with my best friend and some freak I don’t even know is not my idea of a good time,” she blurted.
A guy behind her burst out laughing.
Nikki elbowed her in the ribs.
Shade just smirked. One eyebrow appeared above the rim of his dark sunglasses. “Then what is your idea of a good time?”
She didn’t think watching tear-jerkers in her jammies would convince him of her fun-loving nature, so she settled for making a sound of incredulous frustration, turned in the opposite direction, and stalked off. Or tried to. She took precisely one angry step before crashing head-on into a hard body.
The man steadied her with both hands on her upper arms, his cold beer bottle pressing into the flesh of her biceps. She didn’t lift her gaze to look at him, but stared at his green T-shirt, feeling like a complete tool.
“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asked.
“In my pants,” Shade said and laughed.
Melanie shoved away from the man and headed for a nice safe corner to collect her thoughts. She half-expected Nikki to come after her—to either berate her for calling Shade a freak to his face or because she’d ruined Nikki’s chances with the egomaniac—but several minutes of staring at the wall convinced her that Nikki had deserted her for a guy she didn’t even know. Again. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions. Nikki was laughing and hanging all over Mr. Rock Star Jerk, who seemed to have his gaze trained on Melanie as he suckled a spot right behind Nikki’s ear. When Melanie narrowed her eyes at him, he took Nikki’s hand and led her out a back door.
Melanie scrubbed her forehead with two fingers and turned to stare at the wall again. She considered leaving, but she couldn’t desert Nikki without backup. They’d arrived together, they’d leave together. Besides, the woman’s love life was a disaster. What if she needed Melanie’s help? Considering who she’d left with, the chances that she would need Melanie to bail her out of trouble were all but guaranteed. Melanie supposed attending an after-party alone with a crowd of tattooed metal-heads was better than waiting for Nikki in the car by herself, but not by much. Resigned to her fate, Melanie found the free end of a sofa and sat to wait, keeping her eyes diverted from the people milling about the room.