Hooker (L.A. Liaisons Book 2) (9 page)

“I was trying not to be so obvious about it, but…” He gave me a cocky smirk before grabbing his beer and taking a swig. “So…”

“So…”

The question was on the tip of his tongue. I could see it. The one about whether Ace and I would be seeing each other later…like maybe in bed.

“Come here often?” His grin cracked wider, an obvious attempt at teasing me about my lack of social skills last night.

Har har, ass.

“You’re such a dag. Really,” I said.
 

“A dag? Does that mean insanely good-looking and charming?”

“Sure it does.”

“Sounds sexy in your accent, so it can’t be too bad.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Aren’t you going to put your clothes back on?”

He glanced at the jacket draped over the back of a chair and shrugged. “Nah, I think I’ll leave it off. It seems to bother you.”

“I couldn’t care less, I assure you.”
 

“Sure. So…was that a date?”

“I
knew
you couldn’t resist asking.”

He put his hands up. “Just an innocent question. Big guy doesn’t look like the type that would appreciate your Boba Fett-ish, so I was just looking out. Friend to friend.”

“Are you trying to say only a guy who wears suspenders like yourself would be my type? Or perhaps a pocket protector and nerd glasses? Maybe I like big muscles and…really tight shirts. Or guys who have absolutely nothing in common with me. Because sometimes the whole opposites-attract thing is actually right on. Although in my experience it’s been completely off, like the one time I went out with this fisherman guy because my mom was all, ‘Shayne, give him a chance, or you’ll wind up a bloody old spinster,’ and it turned out to be the worst experience of my life. I’ve blocked most of it out, mind you, but I can remember the deep-sea trip with this glass floor, and then there was fish guts and their heads were chopped off, and I think I lost about five pounds puking up the lollies I’d eaten that day. Worst date up to now, I suppose, but there’s always room for more mistakes.”

A beat, and then, “So I’m guessing that’s a no?”

“Oh. Right, yeah. Not a date.”

His face relaxed, and then he said, “Well then, what can I get you?”

After I gave him my order, he went over to the bar, and I turned back to my friends. Who were all staring at me with identical expressions of horror.
 

I wiped at my face. “What? Is my lipstick everywhere?”
 

“What the
fucking
hell
was that?” Paige hissed.

“What was what?”

“Oh baby girl,” Quinn said, shaking her head and looking at me with
oh you poor thing
eyes. “You like him, huh?”

“Who, Nate? Of course not. I barely know the guy, and from what I’ve gathered, he’s a typical L.A. wanker. A.k.a.
not
my type.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Why would you think that?”

“You only ramble like that around us or when you like someone,” she replied.

“I do not.”

“You do so,” Ryleigh cut in. “It’s totally obvious now.”

“Shut up, you’re giving me a complex. I don’t ramble. And even if I did, it’s not like it means I like the guy. I suppose his boxer briefs the other day were pretty hot and all, and the dimples are a total turn-on for most people, but I definitely don’t like him. Like the wise Bridget Jones once said, ‘He’s just a knobhead with no knob.’”

“I’m glad we set that straight,” Nate said from behind me.
 

I froze as heat flooded my body and then my mouth clamped shut. When the girls immediately ran off for drink refills, I knew I’d cocked up good and proper this time.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitballonastick. Why does this always happen to me?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Rock Out with Your Cock Out

I PIVOTED SLOWLY, and when I was facing him again, he held out my drink.
 

“Cheers to knobheads with no…
knobs
, was it?”
 

“Right…uh…I didn’t mean that, I just—”
 

“No, it’s okay. You don’t know me, and from our brief run-ins, I’ve given you the impression I’m somehow…knobby.” He frowned into the contents of his drink. “I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I’ll have to convince you otherwise. Won’t I?”

When he looked up, his eyes were full of a challenge, like he was daring me to let him prove me wrong. And as much as I knew my words had been full of the asshole variety, part of me wanted to get to know the real Nate Ryan.
 

Okay, not just
part
of me wanted that. More like 93.9 percent. Which meant I was not. Giving. In.
 

With a shrug, I said, “Seems like a waste of time.”

“Because you’ve got me figured out?”

“Look, it’s my job to know how to read people.” As he opened his mouth to protest, I shook my head. “Let me guess. You haven’t had a steady girlfriend since you broke little Miss Mary Sue’s heart back in high school.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Beth. And that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hah.” I pulled the swizzle stick out of my glass and slid the cherry off with my teeth. Nate’s eyes were glued to my mouth. “It means you’re not looking for love. You’re looking for hit-it-and-quit-its.”

“And what about you? Is that internal marriage-and-five-kids clock or whatever it is women get ticking yet?”

“Hardly. I’m not looking. Period.” But even as I said those words, I could feel the lie behind them. When you set up happy couple after happy couple and saw the bliss that could be… Well, it makes you wonder if you’ll ever have that.
 

I had time, though. I mean, it’s not like I had one foot in the grave, pushing around a walker and chomping my gums. I just wanted to be firmly established in my career first, and maybe Ace would be the client that sealed that part of the deal.
 

“Talking is overrated,” Paige cut in, pushing herself between us and handing us each a pair of shots. One sniff told me these weren’t the easygoing lemon drops, but the one-tequila-floor real deals.
 

“I’m not gonna be able to walk soon,” I said, eyeing the potent liquor.
 

Paige threw her arm around Nate’s neck. “You’re taking care of my girl tonight, right?”

As he crossed his heart, his eyes never leaving mine, he said, “I’ll guard her with my life.”

“Good. Now cheers, bitches, it’s my birthdaaay.”
 

We all held up our shots before throwing them back, and damn if that nasty stuff didn’t go down like it was blazing a path to hell. Chasing it with my Violet Femme only flamed the fire, though. Where was water when you needed it?

“Hey, easy now,” Nate said, as he pulled the glass away from my mouth. “I know I said I’d take care of you, but I have a feeling you’ll fight me when I try to carry you out of here, and I’d like to enjoy you first.”

“You are persistent, aren’t you?”

“If I wasn’t, you’d tell me to fuck off.”

“I’m pretty sure I already have.”

Nate grinned. “I know you don’t mean it.”
 

“Why would I say things I don’t mean—” I started, but when I saw the trio of males rounding the bar in Paige’s direction, a bubble of laughter rose in my throat.
 

“What’s so funny?” Nate asked.
 

I shook my head. “Paige is gonna lose her shit when she sees—”

“Oh, what the fuck are you doing here?” Paige’s voice rose above the crowd as she shot daggers at the tall male in black smirking in front of her. Dressed in a suit, with his long, dirty blond hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, he looked like a rock star, guyliner and all. Super hot if you liked that sort of thing, which, according to his reputation, many,
many
women did.
 

“Just wanted to wish my best girl a happy birthday, of course.”
 

“You can’t come crashing in here like a goddamn wrecking ball,
Dick
,
” Paige said, hands on her hips.
 

Richard Dawson—a.k.a. the
Dick
she was referring to—looked around and spread his hands. “Looks like an open bar to me. And you look delicious as usual, Pita.” Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he winked at her before planting a kiss on the back of it, and she growled in response.
 

“I’m guessing they know each other,” Nate said as he leaned in, his breath tickling my ear and sending shivers down my body. “Ex-lovers?”

He was close, too close, but I didn’t move away. Instead, I said, “Apparently their parents are best friends, and they grew up together. She swears they’ve never hooked up, but who knows with them. You can never tell if they want to kill each other or fuck each other. Maybe both.”
 

“So all this fighting is…foreplay?”
 

His words felt like a double meaning. Was he talking about Paige and Dawson, or did he mean us? I didn’t have time to wonder about that, though, because Ryleigh and Quinn moved in front of us.
 

“I hate to interrupt, but you know where this is going, right?” Quinn said. She inclined her head toward the birthday girl, who was still trading barbs with her childhood buddy turned whatever he was.
 

Ryleigh nodded. “Dance-off. Totally.”

“Did you say dance-off?” Nate laughed, but then it faded out when we all just stared at him. “You’re joking. Oh, come on, you’re not serious.”

“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s more like…find the hottest partner on the dance floor and sex them up to make the other person jealous. Or something.” Yeah, it sounded crazy coming out of my mouth too. “I know it seems a little suss, but trust me.”

Quinn threw back the rest of her martini. “Let’s grab her and go, then.” Then to Nate, she said, “You and your friends brought your fake IDs, right?”
 

My mouth fell open. “Quinn!”

She laughed as Ryleigh pulled her toward Paige. “You know I’m kidding. But seriously, you guys should join us. Shayne would love it if you did.”

“Quinn, shut up.”

“What, so you don’t want me to go?” he asked. “Not like I’d give you much choice on the matter. I did promise to guard you with my life tonight.”

I turned to face him, and he didn’t back up an inch. The air between us grew static, crackling with electricity. It was a bad idea, letting him join us.
 

Tell him no. Tell him you like your life as it is, with your ice cream pajamas and trashy television show binges and your vibrator, Big Ben.
Because this could get complicated and messy real fast, and a guy like him would break a heart without a second thought.
 

Of course I didn’t say that.
No
, tequila answered for me. And tequila said, “Bring it the hell on.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jam Out with Your Clam Out

LIKE A GOOD bodyguard, Nate hadn’t left my side all night when we’d entered the club. Not when I went to the bar. Not when I’d headed to the bathroom to touch up my lipstick—though he was waiting just outside the door.

The butterflies that had started when I’d first noticed him earlier that evening hadn’t dissipated either—they’d gotten worse. That hadn’t happened with someone in so long that the sensation was unfamiliar, though not necessarily unwelcome.

With a final look in the mirror, I fluffed my hair out around my shoulders, grabbed my drink, and walked out of the bathroom. Nate was leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and his sleeves pushed up his forearms. His gaze traveled down the length of my body.

“Did I mention how much I’m enjoying the fact that you forgot your pants again tonight? If I hadn’t seen those sexy pajamas, I’d be a little concerned you didn’t own any.”

“As if you would mind that.”

“I think you like me looking at you.”

I mimicked his pose as I leaned against the wall. “Well, I can’t stop you.”

“No, you can’t.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do you know what I love more than anything?”

“Stalking potential dates in the grocery aisle?”

“Gorgeous women who pretend they’re not interested.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed off the wall. “I’m not pretend—”

“You like the challenge,” he said, stepping in front of me, his eyes flicking to my mouth. “And believe me, so do I.”

“Wrong.”

“Stubborn and in denial. I can work with that.” He took the glass from my hand and tipped the liquid into his mouth.
 

“Let me guess. Girly drinks are your favorite too.”

“Nah, just wanted to get a taste of what’s going into that delicious mouth of yours.”

“Jesus.” I shook my head. “You don’t stop, do you?”

His dimple deepened. “You like that too.”

I tried to keep my lips from twitching into a smile, really I did. He was so damn frustrating. But persistent. And persuasive. And so fucking sexy it was hard to remember why I was trying not to show my interest.
 

My mind blanked.
Why is that again…

His stupid smile was winning me over, though. I had to try harder. And maybe not look at him.
 

Turning away, I scanned the crowd on the dance floor looking for the girls. Near the DJ booth, Ryleigh and Quinn were dancing solo and watching the dance-off in progress. Also known as Paige grinding all over one of the guys Nate had come in with while Dirty Dick had his hands all over a busty blonde nearby. It was so obvious that they were showing off for each other, and it was all about the one-upmanship with those two. They needed to just get it on and get it over with already.

Nate moved in behind me.
 

“Should I entice you to join me out there, or do you prefer voyeurism?”

“I enjoy a good show, but now I’m curious how you’d do that. Entice me?”

“I could tell you…or I could show you. Preference?”

“Tell me and maybe I’ll let you show me,” I said over my shoulder.

He put his hands on my hips, keeping me facing the dance floor, and I felt him lower his head, the warmth of his breath breezing across my neck. Shivers rippled down my body, giving away the effect he made on me with barely a touch.