Page 1 of Crazy In Love
one
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Bridger
“I’m notin the mood for loud music and drunk assholes,” I grumped as my cousin Axel chuckled beside me. He tugged the door to Booze and Brews open, and we were immediately hit with exactly what I said I didn’t want.
Loud music and drunk assholes.
“Come on, they’re over here.” Axel pointed to the table where my brothers, Rafe and Easton, were sitting with their better halves, Lulu and Henley.
We made our way over, and I groaned when I spotted Emilia Taylor sitting at the far end of the table beside the girls.
Why was she always around? For fuck’s sake, this girl was working my last nerve.
“Hey,” Rafe shouted, holding his beer up in celebration. “Glad you came. It’s line dancing night.”
He knew I hated line dancing.
Jazzy walked over and handed us each a beer. As the owner of the place, she knew our order well.
“Thanks, Jazz,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Absolutely. You going to get out on the dance floor tonight, Bridger?” Her voice was all tease, because she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that was happening.
“That’s a hard no.” I tipped my chin to her.
She chuckled as she walked away, and Henley waved me over. “Hey, Bridger.”
“Hey,” I said. I made my way over to her and set a hand on her shoulder, tossing Lulu a wink. My brothers had outplayed their coverage with these two, because they were as good as it gets.
And that was saying a lot because I didn’t care for most people.
“We’re drinking shots tonight in honor of the Lions winning their away game,” Lulu said.
My brother Clark played professional hockey for the San Francisco Lions, and his girlfriend, Eloise, worked for the team as well. We attended most home games, but tonight they had an away game.
Lulu, Henley, and Emilia all raised their glasses and tipped their heads back.
Emilia’s shot barely made it in her mouth. Instead, most of the liquid ran down her chin and neck.
She wiped her face as her piercing blue gaze locked with mine.
It wasn’t the usual meek, nervous look that she normally gave me. I’d always assumed her discomfort around me was guilt over the fact that she was writing an anonymous column in the local newspaper that typically talked shit about my family.
Nope. Tonight I was met with anger and disdain.
The feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.
“Well, if it isn’t the broody billionaire bastard Bridger,” Emilia hissed, words slurred and slow as she accented everysingle syllable, which cued me in to the fact that she was clearly three sheets to drunkville already.
I rolled my eyes. “That was a mouthful.”
Henley and Lulu both laughed as they glanced between their friend and me.
“You really brought the B words,” Henley said.
“Very impressive, Emilia,” I said sarcastically. “Maybe you can come up with some new words in this week’s article, huh?”
