Page 184 of Wild Card

“Friday night, Talon gave me the mosteffervescentpair of….”

“Make it stop,”I howl, gasping for breath. “He’s killing me.”

“On no, he’s demonstrating on her hip.” Bex snatches her phone from the middle of the table. “Video proof.”

“More like blackmail,” Abe grumbles.

Tears slide down my cheeks watching Lucas working his charm on the woman across the room. “It’s all your fault. You gave him that award.”

He holds up his palms in defense. “Not my idea. The front office came up with these awards.”

I review the plaque on the table and shake my head. Bex and I left ours in the car, but Lucas paraded in here, displaying his proudly. “Who specifically decided to credit him with ‘Most Likely to specialize in the stripper population’?”

“Not sure, but they created a monster.”

The three of us continue to watch Lucas until the woman scribbles something on her napkin and hands it to him. He saunters back to the table with an arrogant grin.

“Maybe Wills’ luck is rubbing off on me.”

“My luck?”

“You met Talon here and look how that’s worked out.”

I open my mouth but shut it immediately because he’s got a valid point.

“I’d like to take credit for that!” Bex interjects.

“You!” I jolt in my seat at the brash bark coming from the man looming over me.

I sit shocked still at Tom.

“You need to move your asses to the other side of my bar.”

My eyes dart to the area where Shayla has arrived for her shift and is running around like a madwoman. There’s not a spot available unless you count the section on the far side.

“The bar is slammed.”

“Reserved section.”

“That’s for?—”

“You and your friends,” he cuts me off.

“But Talon’s not here.”

“Princess, that’s exactly why your ass needs to be in those seats. Don’t need a brawl in my joint. He wants you near me.”

“Did he call you?”

“Didn’t have to. I don’t like you out here.”

A choked laugh escapes. “You have to be kidding?”

When Abe offered to take us out to celebrate our last day of clinicals, we took him up on it. He’s the one who suggested this place. We came straight from work without changing or freshening up. My hair is in a sloppy ponytail, make-up long gone, and scrubs wrinkled from a day of back-to-back patients. There’s no way I’m garnering any attention.

“It’s Friday night, we’re about to hit our rush, and I don’t have time to argue this shit. Get your ass to the bar.” Tom throws his hand over his shoulder, his eyes heated.

Bex gets our purses, Abe chuckles while grabbing his beer, and Lucas picks up his award along with his drink.

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