She chuckles weakly. “Tank’s amazing. Kind, sweet, annoyingly hot. But now I don’t know what to do. Explore? Tell him? Do both?”
“Only you know that answer,” I say. “But maybe talk to him. He seems open-minded enough. Might even surprise you.”
She nods slowly, then smiles. “Thanks, Eff. I should’ve come to you sooner.”
“I’m always here for a pep talk.”
“I know.” She laughs as shouting erupts from the far side of the bar.
We both look up to see twoSwift Divisionmembers full-on fighting. Like, throwing punches, knocking over furniture, kind of fighting.
Raoul turns to me, waiting.
“Go,” I say. “Break it up. I’m good here.”
He signals the other security guys and rushes off.
Andi watches the chaos for a second and mutters, “I don’t understand those guys…At. All.”
“Not even me?” a deep voice purrs beside us.
Jett.
He strolls up with a beer in one hand and a pink cocktail in the other. My stomach tightens, then he slides into the booth beside me without asking. His leg brushes mine, and I shrink back.
Andi groans. “Yeah,especiallyyou, Jett. Thanks for the talk, Effa. But this is where I exit.” She stands and walks off.
Fuck!I widen my eyes, silently begging her not to go. But she doesn’t notice and disappears into the crowd.
I’m alone.
Withhim.
Jett leans closer and places the cocktail in front of me. “Your favorite. Tropical, sweet, just like you.”
My skin crawls at his words, and I plaster on a weak smile before sipping the drink. It is good. Dangerously so.
“Is there something you want, Jett?” I ask over the music, my eyes darting toward the brawl Raoul is still handling.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I freeze. I should move. I want to move. But I don’t. Because right now, I’m alone and Mercs isn’t here, Raoul is distracted, and I don’t want to make a scene.
“I was thinking maybe… after the tour, we keep in touch,” Jett says, his voice low, lips near my ear.
I take a long sip of the cocktail, trying to think. “Yeah, maybe.”
He pulls me closer, and I swallow hard.
I glance across the bar where Raoul and the others are still trying to wrestle theSwift Divisionguys apart.
His finger runs along the condensation on my glass, and he grins. “Nice drink, huh?”
I nod, then take another sip.
But this time… something’s wrong.
A wave of heat crashes through me. Everything wobbles. My stomach swirls.
“You okay, cupcake?” Jett asks. “You’re lookin’ a little hazy.”
