Page 18 of Never Going to Care

Piper looks at Ella and gives a nod. “Yeah, exactly.”

We talk lightly over dinner, and I’m swept up in having fun with good friends, even if I haven’t known Ella long. She fits in with us. There’s nothing catty about her. She’s sweet and genuine. Clearly not too sweet considering she has three husbands, but that’s none of my business and I’m not going to judge people for who they love.

Life’s too short for that mess.

By the time we’re leaving the restaurant, I’m ready to do a little dancing and get some drinks into me. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been to a club and I’m looking forward to this.

When we get to Sala and the four of us climb out of the cab, I have a smile on my face. It’s not every night you get to celebrate one of your best friends getting married. The wedding is next week and after that, hopefully, I can forget all about Hale. It’s not like I’ll have any reason to go to SP after Piper is hitched and happy.

It’s not too late and we have space reserved so it doesn’t take us long to get inside. The moment we sit down in the VIP area, we order some drinks and don’t have to wait long to get them. If it’s because Briar knows the owner and she put in a good word for us or it’s always how the service is here, I’m not going to complain.

It takes approximately two drinks before Stella pulls a sash out of her clutch, a white ribbon with the words ‘Bride to Be’ emblazoned on it. She drapes it over Piper and then starts to pull us out to the dance floor.

The music is pumping and there are women dancing in cages hung at the corners of the dance floor. I take one in for a moment and the way she’s scantily clad, but it’s not more skin than you’d see in any commercial about summer or lingerie. I have to give them props because I’d never put myself out there like that, but they have the moves and the beauty to back up their jobs.

I’m almost a little jealous. They seem above it all, high above the writhing bodies on the dance floor, but still part of the action. I wonder if they get tips. Actually, they probably get their fair share of creepy propositions thrown their way, but by the look of the huge bouncer when we came in, I’m sure that shit is shut down quickly and efficiently.

As we’re dancing to the fifth song, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A knot forms in my gut because I know exactly why I’m having that feeling. Someone is watching me, and I have a pretty good idea who it is.

I look up and meet Piper and then Ella’s eyes as Stella dances with her arms up and her eyes closed, totally oblivious to what the rest of us already know. Ella has a smirk on her face and there’s a huge smile on Piper’s lips. I wonder if I look like a deer caught in headlights with my heart obviously pounding in my chest.

The way they’re eyeing me makes me feel like I’m the damn runway at an airport and the lights are flashing while a plane is being waved in by air traffic control and shit. It’s disarming and kind of terrifying. Will the landing gear come down?

I’m blaming the alcohol because air traffic control? Really?

When arms snake around my waist from behind, I know it’s not Hale and my body stiffens. I don’t know what is about to happen, but I have a feeling it’s not going to be good.

Or it’s going to be too good and so damn sexy I’ll spontaneously combust right here in the middle of the dance floor. Those cage dancers have nothing on this show.

CHAPTER 7

HALE

There haven’t been many times in my life that I’ve been rendered fucking breathless. Seeing Celeste in her damn little black dress, which hugs her body like I want to be able to, is definitely one of those times. I can’t keep my eyes off her when she walks into the reception area of SP to pick up Piper and Ella for Piper’s bachelorette party. I can’t decide where to look either.

Her hips are begging for my hands to be wrapped around them, pulling her closer to me. Her tits are looking delectable as fuck. Her legs peeking out from the hem of her skirt which led down to the fuck me heels she’s wearing would have looked even better wrapped around my waist. Her hair, long tumbles of black strands, make my hands clench in anticipation of being buried there.

My cock starts throbbing before the elevator doors even had the chance to open fully. I almost tell her to turn the fuck around and go home to change, but I know the looks I’d get if I did so I bite my tongue. It is hard as hell not to roar like a damn beast at the sight of her and ignore the burning under my skin at the idea of another man being able to see her all dressed up.

When the women leave, I can tell Owen, Barrett, Colt and Landon are struggling just like I am. We all stand around looking at the elevator like our wills will be enough to have them coming back to us. It isn’t.

When we break our death glares and look at each other, an understanding passes between us. It might be Landon’s bachelor party, but we know where we’ll end up. Sala.

There was no fucking way we are going to let the ladies go out unprotected. Not in a fucking club where the lighting is shit and alcohol is flowing. Colt has always been kind of icy, but the artic fucking vibes coming off him at the thought of Ella being out there without his protection drops the temperature in the room to damn near parka required conditions.

We shuffle into the conference room where the rest of the guys are waiting for us along with some pizzas and bottles of whiskey. I can’t help but grin at the way Weston jokes, “Are you sure this is all you want to do for your bachelor party?”

Landon growls, “No strip clubs.”

Ella’s men scoff as if the idea is fucking ridiculous while Weston pouts. His voice is mulish, “I wasn’t going to suggest a strip club.”

Easton teases his twin, “Yeah because you know Piper would kick your ass.” He eyes Ella’s guys and whispers, “Ella too and she’s pregnant.” He shudders and shakes his head. “Don’t piss off a pregnant woman.”

Owen barks out a laugh as Colt and Barrett soften slightly. “Damn straight,” Owen agrees. “She’s been wanting spicy Cheetos and I’m too afraid to remind her how much it gives her heartburn,” he admits with a grimace.

Landon clears his throat and grabs one of the Hammond whiskey bottles before starting to pour. His voice sounds casual, but I can read his tight body language, “We’re not going to be staying here all night now.”

“Oh?” Weston perks up. “Where else are we going?”

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