Page 42 of Challenge
Saying that is probably the deciding factor for why he agrees to help me. I know Gareth’s not gay because I’ve seen his porno collection. But he’s almost thirty and, truth be told, I’ve never seen him with a girl. Tanner and I have tried to drag him to the clubs with us when he’s in town, but he always avoids that kind of scene. Booker thinks he’s celibate for football. I think he’s got a secret girl in Manchester. Regardless, he doesn’t date publicly. Ever.
“I guess I should be glad you’re getting out of the flat.”
“Exactly,” I reply. “Let’s go.”
It’s just after midnight when we get to Club Taint. This place is a bit of a wonder. It has a gay bar vibe to it with the pedestal go-go dancers and the dubstep music, but it’s still diverse enough of a crowd to be able to kick back and feel welcome. I’ve been here once before with the team when we were trying to get our midfielder, Clive, to come out of the closet. Truthfully, we all know he’s gay and couldn’t give a shit. We just want to know. It’s like having a friend who’s allergic to peanuts—it’s nice to know so you don’t embarrass yourself by handing him a Walnut Whip.
Gareth leads the way, pulling down his baseball cap, keen on not being recognised. I didn’t bother wearing a hat. You don’t see many baseball caps in London, so my theory is that you draw more attention to yourself by wearing one.
While my brother orders us drinks at the bar, my gaze scans the dance floor for a red, messy bun, preferably surrounded by happy gay men and not straight, trolling blokes. I know it’s a bit intense to show up here without a warning, but there’s a part of me that’s excited to see her in public. Not in the hospital behind closed doors, or in her flat where her curtains are drawn. I want to see her in a dress, dancing and maybe a little bit intoxicated so that when I throw my ideas at her, she’s open to them. Plus, I’m much more persuasive in person.
“Relax and have a drink. You look like a fucking stalker,” Gareth says, passing me a bottle of lager. “Are you sure you know what you’re in for with this bird?”
I suck back a cool drink and frown. “I’m not a stalker, and I’m notinfor anything other than adjusting our arrangement.”
“And what arrangement is that exactly?” His hazel eyes are judgmental under the shadows of his cap.
I lean in so he can hear me. “She’s not wanting a boyfriend, and I already made it very clear how I am. I just want a bit more than the one night she originally proposed.”
“Are you telling me a surgeon at a private hospital wants a one-night stand with you? What is it…some bucket list thing? Are you fulfilling her make-a-wish dying request?”
I scowl. “Don’t be a prat.”
“Well, good luck to you. Just find this girl so we can get out of here.” He turns around as a group of girls looks in our direction.
I put the bottle to my lips and nearly choke when my gaze lands on the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. I thought Indie Porter was hot in scrubs and messy hair. The woman standing before me now is completely out of my league.
A long game plan with a bird never looked so good to Camden Harris.
WHENIGET A GLIMPSEof Belle’s tongue ramming down her dance partner’s throat, I decide it’s time for another drink. I break away from the guy I’m with and interrupt Belle just long enough to tell her I’m going to the bar. When I turn around, my guy has already grabbed another girl, so I don’t feel much love loss there.
I finally get myself out of the throng of people, feeling as if I just got mauled, and my gaze collides with a pair of eyes that I’ve been picturing in my head all night.
The Chosen One.
“Camden?” My voice sounds weak and unsure as I approach him, drinking in his entire body. He’s dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a thin, holey grey T-shirt. It’s the kind of shirt you pay a lot of money to have artfully distressed because if you tried to do it yourself, it would look as if you took a paper puncher to it. His hard muscles are on full display beneath the soft fabric and the touch of ink snaking out on one arm adds edge to a drool-worthy boy next door look.
“Indie.” He utters my name so quietly I have to step closer to hear him. Even his blonde hair looks perfect, smoothed over to one side. “This is what you look like outside of work?”
I glance down shrugging. “No, not always.”
“Good,” he replies with a scowl. “Were you dancing with someone out there?”
“Hello, Dr. Porter,” a deep voice interrupts from beside him. I hadn’t realised Camden’s brother, Gareth, was standing right next to him. “Nice to see you.”
“Please, call me Indie.” I look over and smile at him politely, immediately wondering what Camden has told him about me. “What are you guys doing here?”
Camden’s face softens and he replies, “I need to talk to you.”
A pit forms in my stomach from the look on his face. Were my texts too much? Is he wanting out? Without another word, he grips my arm and ushers me away from the bar. His hand is hot on my back as he gestures toward a quiet corner of the club with tall, empty cocktail tables and no chairs. Most of the clubbers are pressing in on the dance floor, so this area feels like a place you could go to murder someone and no one would hear their screams.
“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I ask, as the music thumps along with my heart. “What does your brother know about us?”
“Everything’s fine.” He gestures for me to stand on one side of the table and positions himself across from me. “Don’t worry about Gareth. I wouldn’t tell him more than he needs to know.”
“So he knows we’re—”
“Forget him. He doesn’t care. But you may as well know there’s not much you can do with a Harris that the others don’t eventually suss out. We’re like fucking psychics when it comes to each other’s business. It’s annoying as fuck.”
