Page 115 of Knot Their Starlet

“Fine then,” he snorts. “Next time I see her, I’ll add that to the list of fuckin’ things I need to get through that thick skull of hers.”

He drops his hold on her face and resumes stomping up the stairs like his ass is on fire.

“Did that just happen?” she murmurs, falling into step with me and clinging to my arm.

I trace my nose along the column of her neck, fighting the urge to lick her skin.

Her chamomile perfume is thick with a hint of bitterness from frustration, but I can barely tell underneath the overwhelming note of sweet honey.

“It did,” I hum. “It was also hot as fuck.”

She jerks her head back, her gaze darting between my eyes.

I let her see the open desire in my expression. I don’t shy away from it.

She visibly swallows before letting out a startled laugh.

“Are you hearing this?” she asks, turning to Leo.

“I am,” he murmurs, stepping up on her opposite side, sandwiching her between us. “And I agree.”

She melts into our touch, just like I knew she would.

God, am I so excited for that dance floor.

“I feel like I’m being ganged up on,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go, boys. Wouldn’t want Mr. Grumpy-Pants up there to steal all our fun.”

CHAPTER 25

Andi

My head is delightfully buzzy.

I can’t tell whether it’s because I’m drunk on the delicious scents of these even more delicious-looking men I’m surrounded by or the two shots I took back in my apartment.

Probably a combination of both.

I take a deep breath at the top of the stairs, closing my eyes and letting the dance floor lights, shifting from reds to blues and purples, shine past my eyelids.

God, did I need this.

I didn’t want to think anymore.

Too much thinking. Not just for the day. Maybe for my entire life.

I feel like the carefully constructed worldview my mom has spent my entire life hammering into my head is falling apart at the seams. And I don’t know what to do in the wake of it. There’s only so much distinguishing between my mom’s voice and my voice I can do.

Especially when I’m sick and tired of my own voice in my head right now.

The VIP section of the club is on the balcony above the main floor. It’s far more secluded and far less crowded than the main floor. It has its own bar along the back wall, and there are individual booths with wide, round cushioned seating areas that border the dance floor.

Elijah stands, his arms crossed over his chest in front of one, waiting for us.

He looks like our bodyguard, with his all-black outfit and slicked-back hair.

A really fucking hot bodyguard.

An unfairly hot bodyguard. Especially with those tattoos peeking out on his chest past the couple of buttons he’s left undone.