Yes, someone’s hand is stuck to my butt like it’s been glued there.
“What the—” I jerk upward into a sitting position, forcing the hand off of me, and stare up at a glassy-eyed blond man squatting next to me. I have no idea who he is, and I don’t like the way he’s leering at me. Don’t like it at all.
“Excuse me.” I lean away from him. “Would you please back off.”
I don’t say it as a question, but his mouth curves into a creepy smile, and when he speaks, I realize just how inebriated he is.
“You’re not going anywhere without me,” he says in a loud voice, and he reaches for me again.
Shit.I really, really don’t want to have to pull out my self-defense moves here. Bill’s warned me about using them on clients—he says I scare away good business, and if I embarrass the company in the middle of a party this big and with this much riding on it, he may well fire me. But I don’t know what else to do.
I lift my foot and take aim, prepared to kick the asshole in the nuts when—
“Back the fuck away from her, Green, or I’ll do it for you.”
I whip my head up to meet the lethal gaze of Dylan Wild standing behind the creepy asshole.
Dylan’s eyes shift to me. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, the concern in his voice evident.
I nod. “Fine.”
Before the guy can even move, Dylan’s hands are gripping his shoulders.
“Back. Up. I’m cutting you off.” He drags the guy into a standing position and hauls him away.
I exhale. Dylan Wild saved me. Not because I needed rescuing but because I need to keep this job. More than ever right now, I need this job.
I wish I could thank him. But that would mean staying in the middle of a bunch of drunkards, and I can’t risk another run-in with some jerk-off who doesn’t understand personal boundaries.
I grab my tray back off the ground and hurry off to the safety of the bar.
* * *
Dylan
By the time I get security’s attention and have my wasted teammate thrown out of the party, the woman he harassed is nowhere around.
Not that I can blame her. She’s probably wisely telling her boss that she’s not going to get these drunk assholes drinks anymore. I hope she’s telling him that because the thought of her working here when I can’t be around to watch out for her bugs me.
“Hey!” I turn to see my cousin, Ayden, waving at me from a couple feet away. “Let’s go! Colton said we’re on some sort of a timetable.”
Within minutes, I’m in the back of a limo with my four Wild cousins and Colton’s best friend, Jenson.
We drive across town, far away from the glitz and glitter of the Strip, and every second I feel the gorgeous gray-eyed server slipping away from me.
* * *
We file into a nondescript chapel that’s completely empty except for our group. A short while later, Jenson’s five-year-old twin sons act as ring bearers and walk down the tiny aisle to the altar with Jenson making sure they don’t veer off-course. Colton and Sky beam at each other and exchange vows that they wrote themselves. Colton’s mom cries with joy, and both the bride and groom choke up. The ceremony is quick but feels warm and intimate with all the love surrounding our tight-knit group. When Colton picks Sky up and kisses her on the altar, an involuntary twinge of envy hits me as I realize Colton’s really found the love of his life. I’m not looking for a serious relationship, so where did that sensation come from?
I remember the beautiful server from earlier. She appeared in front of me, and just like that, I knew she was the date I wanted with me in Arizona.
Except she ran like the wind when I tried to ask her out. Granted, I acted like an ass, flirting with her like that. I should have toned it way down and actually tried to talk to her, but I’m so out of practice with any kind of normal interaction.
I swallow as Colton and Sky raise their hands and step down off the altar as husband and wife. We all clap and cheer and then go to a hole-in-the-wall bar for some celebratory drinks. But I can’t get the gray-eyed server out of my head. I think about her for the rest of the night, hoping she’s okay. I kick myself for not trying harder to get her number.
What I really hate, though, is that the incident with my teammate harassing her proves what I’ve always feared—bringing someone into my crazy life is a bad decision. It’s dangerous enough for me to maneuver my way through the minefield of fame and money, but to invite someone else into the fray? It’s just not realistic, not for the long haul. Colton’s able to navigate all of this shit with a woman by his side, but as the quarterback, I’m the face of the team, and the number of eyes on me is a thousand times greater.
So it’s probably for the best that I’ll never see the server again. I guess some things aren’t meant to be.
