“Hey, Axel.” He slapped the towering man on the back. “Brendan here yet?”
“He’s in the office with Hans,” he answered with a curt nod. “He’ll be out shortly.”
“Let him know we’re here, will ya?”
“Of course.” Black eyes gazing down at him, the corner of Axel’s mouth twitched. “Will you be upstairs?”
The lavish and private VIP spaces.
Before, they only went up for special club events, but once the girls came along, and more so since Kyan’s death, they eschewed their throne on the main floor in favor of it.
“Not tonight, my friend.”
It would be silly to go when it was only the three of them, so Matt led the way to their old spot by the bar that was always on reserve for them. The semi-circular booth, upholstered in tufted purple velvet, could easily hold a dozen people, and even as they took their seats, it still looked pitifully empty.
“It doesn’t feel right sitting here—ain’t the same, you know?” Sloan’s gaze flitted around the mostly unoccupied booth, andpulling at the chain around his neck, his index finger slid back and forth. “We should’ve gone up to VIP.”
“Why?” Matt pulled his phone out and tossed it onto the table. “So you can hide?”
“No, asshole, so I don’t have to sit here with the memories of…”
“Kyan?”
“Yeah.” His lips trembling, Sloan pushed his thumb into his wrist. “It fucking guts me to think about him. I loved the little shit.”
Barely six months had passed since the tragic loss of the youngest of the nine princes.
“We all did.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around it… that he’s…”Dead. Gone.But Sloan couldn’t say it. “… not here. Linnea…”
His teeth raking over his bottom lip, Matt nodded. Only twenty-four, Linnea was a widow. Her two-month-old daughter would never know her father. Inseparable, Dillon was fucking lost without his brother, while Brendan and Jesse deeply grieved their cousin. But having grown up together, his loss affected every man among them. Irreplaceable, Kyan left a hole in their hearts that nothing could ever fill. They’d just have to learn how to live with it, he supposed.
“Why do they keep this booth empty all the time?” Kit asked, changing the subject.
“Hans keeps it that way for us.”As a sign of respect.
Kit slumped against the purple velvet. “Well, it’s fucking depressing.”
“Stop with the sad shit—both of you,” Matt said and slammed his fist onto the table. “That’s the last thing Kyan would’ve wanted.”
A girl he’d never seen before, wearing the club’s signature black thong uniform, approached their table. Thefabric translucent, Matt could make out the shape of her supple breasts, their peaked, rosy nipples. Long, light brown, highlighted hair, curled into loose waves, framed her pretty face. She was likely a blondie when she was little.
“Gentlemen.” The girl cleared her throat and took a breath. “Can I get you anything?”
Thirsty as all fuck, Kit stared at her chest like he’d never seen a pair of pretty tits in all of his life, before his gaze met hers. He chewed on his lip, but he didn’t speak.
“Well, hello, pretty,” Matt crooned on the bassist’s behalf. “Glenlivet. Bring us the bottle.”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a nod and turned to leave.
His lip quirking up, Sloan stopped her. “And what’s your name?”
“Savannah.”
He stretched his arm out as if reaching for her. “I’m Sloan, and this is—”
“I know who y’all are.” She didn’t appear impressed.
