Page 7 of Crave: A Reverse Harem Romance

“Tony!” I called out to him as I stood up. “Dammit!”

“What?” he asked frantically, his eyes flicking from me back to the bank of monitors. “What’s going on?”

“That man—right there!” I pointed to where he was in the bar. “He just spiked someone’s drink. Call down to security immediately and tell them to look for him and a brunette woman in a tight black dress. They need to stop him before he can go anywhere.”

“I’m on it.” He pulled out his walkie-talkie and started yelling out the security code. We had code names for every situation, and this was a code pink.

“Call the police immediately after,” I said as I stood up.

He looked over at me after giving both descriptions. “Are you going down there?”

I didn’t even have time to answer him. I didn’t want to think of what might happen if she turned around and picked up that drink.

Maybe I could get to her before that happened, though. Maybe staring at her for the past several minutes would actually pay off, since now I knew exactly what she looked like and exactly where she was in the bar.

I sprinted down the hall and toward the back stairs, which thankfully would lead me right to the entrance of the bar area. I was panicked in a way I didn’t expect to be. I could feel my heart pounding as I ran down the stairs as fast as I possibly could.

I had to get to her.

Chapter 3 - Harlow

I tried not to make a face as I finished off the last of my second mojito. Liza dared me to chug it and had cheered excitedly as I put the glass on the side table next to the couch.

“This is the Harlow I’ve been waiting to see,” she said, clasping her hands together as she waved over the cocktail waitress. “We should get another one.”

My eyes widened. “Okay, seriously, Liza… no.” I put my hands up in a mock surrender. “No more. That’s enough drinking for me tonight.”

I knew it was totally pathetic, but I was completely tipsy off those two drinks. I did not want to be one of those sloppy drunk girls. Especially not in these heels.

Thank God we were still sitting on the couch and that Liza hadn’t insisted we go anywhere else, because honestly? Liquor and stilettos had never been a good combination for me. Add in the fact that we were in a sex club, and that was just a recipe for disaster.

“Come on, Harlow.” Liza threw me an exasperated look. “It’s been two drinks. It’s not like I’m asking you to do a shot…” Her voice trailed off and I knew that was exactly what she was thinking of asking me to do. “Just one more, please? I’ll drink one with you. What is there to lose?”

I sighed, and when I didn’t immediately say no, I knew we were both in trouble. My inhibitions were lowered, I was ready to drink more, and I was already not myself. But I didn’t worry about it too much. It was just one night and I had nothing to do tomorrow, so if I ended up with a hangover, well… at least I could say I had earned it, right?

“Fine,” I said. “But just one more.”

She squealed, and the cocktail waitress turned around and found her way to us.

“Another round?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Liza nodded gleefully.

I sighed and shook my head. “Honestly, girl, you are too much.”

“Me?” she asked, in a far-too-innocent tone. “Never.”

I could tell she was feeling good, and that made me smile. It was the first time all night I felt like we were really starting to let our guard down and have a good time.

The waitress returned with our drinks, and we both immediately grabbed them and took a few sips. They were honestly damn good mojitos, and I was pretty sure I would have felt that way even if I hadn’t already knocked back two of them.

Suddenly, the song blaring out of the speakers changed, and Liza’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my God, oh my God! This is my song, Harlow!” She jumped up, and I was pretty impressed at how smooth she looked in her own heels. If I had jumped up like that, I’d be on my face right now.

Even before she offered me a hand and gave me an expectant look, I knew there was no way she was going to let me sit this one out.

“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to my feet insistently. “I don’t want to go out there and dance by myself.”

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