Page 23 of Empty Net

“Six!”

I see Auden and Hutch huddled up together.

“Five!”

Rory and Lawson with their heads bent close.

“Four!”

Hayes and his nanny-turned-girlfriend Quinn.

“Three!”

Locke is posted up at the bar, watching his teammates.

“Two!”

Keller walks out of the party altogether.

“One!”

Two arms slip around my waist, and I fall against that same brick wall from before.

No. Not a wall. It’s Fox.

I spin in his arms, looking up at him as he grins down at me. That warmth I felt earlier spreads through me again, and eventhough I’m absolutely drunk, I know it has nothing to do with the alcohol. It’s all because of those sweet brown eyes.

“Arthur,” I say. Or at least IthinkI say it.

He drops his head, and for a second, I think he might kiss me. For a second, I might want him to.

Now that isdefinitelythe booze talking.

But he doesn’t. He bypasses my lips, his own dancing dangerously close to my skin as he makes his way to my ear, where he whispers so only I can hear, “Happy New Year, sugar.”

I can’t breathe. All the air is taken from my lungs and I’m unable to force any back in. I don’t know how. I just know that somehow, Fox has madesugarthe most attractive thing a man can say.

When he pulls away, he laughs at what he sees, which I assume is me looking completely dazed because,damn, why is that so hot?

“Come on,” he says in that low drawl of his that goes right between my legs. “Let’s get you home.”

He pulls me through the ballroom that looks absolutely incredible, if I do say so myself. I try to pat my own back, but I can’t seem to make my arm move, all my limbs suddenly growing very, very tired.

“Home?” I ask.

“Yes, home.” Fox wraps his arm around me, tugging me to his side, and I’m so far gone that I allow it, snuggling into him even more as he pulls me into the elevator.

The hum of the descent is soothing, and my eyelids lower further with each passing floor. By the time we hit the lobby, I can hardly keep them open. Fox leads me outside, holding me tightly the whole way and ensuring I don’t fall over. Not until we hit the sidewalk do I realize I somehow lost my heels.

“My shoes!” I try to wrench out of Fox’s grasp and rush back into the hotel to grab my Louboutins, which cost way more than I’d like to admit.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He curls his hand around my waist, pulling me back to him. “I’ll make sure someone grabs them.”

“Okay, but don’t let it be Lawson. I bet he’d try to wear them, and I don’t want them stretched out.”

He laughs, though I’m not sure what’s funny. I was being serious.

“I promise I won’t let Lawson wear your shoes.”

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