“Who wants to bang a driver?”
I’d know that husky voice anywhere, which makes me really bloody angry and excited all at once.I spin around so fast, I nearly impale Matt with the pool cue.
“Whoa, tiger,” he says as he steadies me with his big hands.Were they always that big?
“Matt!”I shout over the music as I fight the tipsy urge to hug him.I have to remind myself that I’m his boss.This is a professional hangout.Well, as much as dive-bar drunken hangouts can be.
But Matt stays cool and casual, one hand in his pocket while the other shakes Keyla’s hand as he introduces himself.Keyla gives me a sideways look that says exactly what I’m thinking: He unsurprisingly lookshot.Shower fresh, hair still damp, chocolate hoodie and loose-fit jeans, black baseball cap pulled down low.
It’s infuriating.
“Holy shit, you’re Matt Warner,” Micky says, glancing back at me and Keyla.
Matt lifts his baseball cap a little, grinning.“Yeah, but keep it down, would you?”he says, nodding round the crowded bar.
Micky grins back.“Good luck on Sunday, bro.”Then, shaking his head, he saunters back to his mates with a wide smile.
“I didn’t think you’d show this late,” I shout over the music, steadying myself with one hand on the pool table.
“Sorry, took a minute to get ready and then was stuck in traffic,” he replies, looking sheepish.“Damn, looks like I missed all the fun.”
“I’m afraid so.I’m actually ready for bed,” I yell back.“And I’m hungry.”
“And you look a little drunk,” Matt says, as I attempt three times to stand the pool cue up against the wall, before giving up.
Keyla takes the pool cue from me and, with almost the same lack of coordination, manages to return it to its catch.“I can go meet the team if you want to head back?They’re going clubbing.”She glances between me and Matt and narrows her eyes at me.“If that’s what you want, Chloe?”
I slump down into the seat, waves of tiredness sweeping over me.I’m so exhausted I can’t tell where the jet lag begins and the whiskey ends.“Yes, please.”
“I’ll take her back,” Matt says to Keyla without missing a beat.
“Text me when you get home,” she says to me before squeezing my hand and disappearing to keep the party going.
I watch Matt scan the bar, probably to close out my tab.The whole place is swaying and shouting in unison, engrossed in their own drunken business of off-tune singing and sweaty dancing.
And then, Matt pulls his cap down low and reaches out his hand to pull me up.
“Come on, Bug,” he says, half grinning at me.“Let’s get you to bed.”
I can’t help myself.“I bet you’ve used that line before.”
“Oh, she’s playful tonight,” he says, chuckling as he gives up waiting for my hand and folds his arms across his chest.“You want a water instead?Food?”
“I want all three of those things, but I don’t want to move,” I say, and hearing the slight slur in my voice, I pull a face.“Shit.Iama little drunk.”
“I don’t have a teleporter shoved down the front of my pants, but I can get you back to the hotel with my car,” he says.
“The hotel?”I say, sighing, wishing I was already there.
“Where there is foodandthere is water,” he says.
“And you have a car?”
“Yes, I drove myself.You know, I have a driver’s license,” he says, grinning.“I passed my test and everything.”
“Fine.Take me home,” I say, lifting up my hand to accept his help.His big hand clasps around mine and jerks me up, and before I lose my footing and catch the side of the pool table he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close.
I immediately feel the electricity between us that sparked in the room back in Singapore.I slowly trace my eyes from his muscular arm holding me, up to his broad chest, and finally into those piercing hazel eyes.Am I that drunk, or did I just imagine him leaning in even more?Or maybe it’s the crowd of people pushing us toward each other.
