Even as I tell myself that, I know I’ve lost the fight. When I have something I’m compelled to say or do, it must be done right then or I won’t rest.
Which means, I’m taking a trip into the city.
I scrub a hand over my face. Every single part of me perks up at the idea of standing in front of the soft-looking blonde with the flashing honey eyes.
Which is exactly why I also dread it.
Chapter15
Off The Reservation
TED
TED
The bars I go to are pubs, watering holes I take my guys to after a hard day’s work. The few times I ventured into Boston’s bars were not for pleasure and were usually some of the worst days of my life.
But here I am, waiting in line for half an hour to get to the big ornate doors of the Poison Apple. I’m surrounded by sparkly mini dresses, expensive shoes, and heavy cologne that’s clogs up my nose and throat.
I’m grateful I thought to put on one of my nice silver button-up shirts with my jeans, though I’m still wildly out of place.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I feel like an old grandpa next to these kids though I’m not much older. But I’ve been working since I was sixteen and never went out and partied. I skipped college in favor of working construction to support me and my brothers after our parents died. From there I built a successful business that allows me to pick my own hours and work with who I want.
This world of frivolous glitz, glam, and hookups is the one my neighbor rules. No wonder JJ’s so attracted to her. It’s his world too.
Just as I’m about to duck out of line and abandon this whole idea, the bouncer ushers me into the Poison Apple.
If I thought the people in line were glamorous, it’s nothing compared to the scene that greets me inside.
A two-story display of liquors rises up behind the bar at the center of the room. Warm light spills through each bottle, casting a romantic glow on the beautiful people mingling with one another. Off to one side is a packed dance floor, surrounded by counter height bar tables with standing room only. The other side of the room has tufted burgundy couches laid out for conversational lounging.
My hands slip out of my jeans and my lips part as I soak in the feature at the center of the lounge area. A massive live tree wrapped in lights drips down over the luxury seating. I can smell the fresh dirt from here. Turning my gaze upward, I find the ceiling is mostly glass which must allow for the tree to drink in rays from the sun during the daylight hours.
Sweat pops out on my brow, and my heart beats too fast. If I felt out of place before, now I am completely blown out of my element. While I can appreciate the structural designs that make a place so grand, I am fast losing my nerve.
Then I spot her. A blur of bright bubblegum pink and black leather. Soft blonde curls are pulled up into a messy updo with fallen tendrils that caress her bare tan shoulders. Long gone is the grime from her cleaning.
My brows knit as my pants suddenly tighten. The dress she is wearing should be illegal. It leaves her upper body exposed, showing off her glistening warm skin and dipping down to showcase her ample cleavage.
Head snapping to the side, I flex my jaw, fighting my building hard on.
What are you doing? She is your brother’s hookup. Don’t be a scuz bag.
Inhaling sharply through my nose, I make my way toward the bar. My fists clench at my sides as a red haze clouds my vision when I find a passel of men gathered at the bar, clearly vying for her attention.
It’s a mass of popped collars and greedy eyes drinking her in. There are two bouquets of flowers and even more boxes of truffles on the counter, left before her like an offering to a goddess.
A strange buzzing sensation licks against my skin the closer I get to the crowd.
Goldie smiles pleasantly as they all chat her up, but I notice something they don’t seem to. There are lines of strain pulling at the corners of those luminescent eyes.
Standing behind her fan club, I clear my throat.
She’s shaking a drink up when the clacking ice halts abruptly, her eyes flying wide as they fasten on me. Her petal pink lips part in surprise.
As if sensing a shift in the energy, the men turn to see who has captured Goldie’s attention. Hot glares dig into me, but I brush them off as if they are nothing.
“Can I talk to you?” I ask.
