Tempe and Reagan go home around one in the morning, but Luna and Aimee stay with me. They tell stories about the club—the members. It’s exciting and intimidating. They don’t talk about Dean directly, but what they say gives insight into the life he lives in Vegas.
By the time I spot Dean through the windows, I’ve had a few too many margaritas, and it’s close to three in the morning.
Dean stops beside Havoc, catching gazes with me through the window while Havoc says something to him.
“That’s the look,” Aimee says, and I look up to find her watching Dean.
Luna nods. “Yep, that’s the look.”
“What look?”
Aimee smiles. “The one that says you’re not just friends.”
My gaze finds Dean again, and he starts walking through the room, slowly heading to the door that leads to the patio. I almost tell them they’re wrong. That he isn’t looking at me in any kind of way. But the intensity of his attention makes my heart race.
Dean circles behind me when he steps outside. I sip my drink, pretending not to notice the warmth of his nearness. The comforting scent of leather and tobacco that is uniquely him.
My skin prickles as he wraps his hand around my braid, tugging my head back so I’m forced to look up at him. God, he’s even more beautiful with age. I can hardly stand looking into his eyes.
“Ready for bed?” His voice is deep and gravelly.
“Yes.” My throat is suddenly dry. “Are you?”
I don’t know why I’m on edge waiting for his answer. But for once, I care where he’s going right now. The margaritas are making a mess of my thoughts.
He hates me, but I wish hewouldn’t.
“Yeah, princess. Let’s go to bed.” Dean releases my braid, holding out a hand to help me up.
“It was nice meeting you, Willa.” Luna grins, with her straw between her teeth. “Have a good night.”
“Mm-hmm.” I glare at them with Dean leading me away. “You too.”
Troublemakers.
No wonder we got along.
8
Willa
“You’re back late.” Igiggle as I trip over my own foot.
Thankfully, Dean catches me before I face-plant in the hallway. “And you’re drunk.”
“Mm-hmm.” I cling to his arm so I don’t fall over while he unlocks the door to his bedroom, which is when I notice how sparkly his shirt is. “You’re covered in glitter.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Ah, so you weren’t at a strip club getting rubbed down by naked women?” I lift an eyebrow, striding past him when he swings the door open for me.
He opens his mouth to explain or argue, but I hold up a finger, stopping him.
“Never mind. Don’t answer that. Drunk me doesn’t care what you were up to tonight, but sober me might never stop overanalyzing anything you say right now.”
Dean lets it go, not taking his eyes off me as I strip out of my shorts and shoes and climb into his bed in myT-shirt and underwear. The first night I was here, I did it to be sexy, but now I’m just too drunk to care. Especially after he’s probably been staring at women wearing way less than this all night.
I expect Dean to leave after I get tucked into his sheets like he usually does, but he stays tonight, shutting off the light and stripping down to his boxer briefs. Moonlight draws out every muscle in his arms and chest. The strength in his thighs as he walks to the bed is practically obscene. I’ve never cared about thighs, but something about his gives me all sorts of inappropriate ideas. He climbs into bed, and I’m barely breathing.
