Killian (On the Line #1) - Brenda Rothert Page 0,19

pretty sure seeing him in a tux would affect my sex drive about the same way his suit had.

“Those boys better show up here clean cut and sober, or heads are gonna roll,” Keri said sweetly.

I nodded my agreement, once again grateful that Keri had agreed to uproot her life in New York to come here with me. It was an open-ended arrangement, but not once had she asked when we might be going home. She was single and driven, like me.

A server approached with a tray of bubbly champagne flutes.

“Want one?” Keri asked, reaching for two glasses.

“Please.”

“Hey, Shuck cleans up nice,” she said, sounding surprised, as she caught a glimpse of our goaltender across the room. “He must’ve borrowed a comb from someone.”

I laughed and was about to respond when the sight of Killian stopped me cold. He was perfect in his tux, clean-shaven with his short blond hair perfectly groomed. He was crazy hot and I’d wager that every woman in the room had noticed him.

My heart beat wildly as he approached. I thought it might stop altogether when I saw the woman next to him. She wore a strappy gown that showed way too much skin, but there was no denying she was beautiful. Petite and toned, she had long black hair piled into curls on top of her head.

He was going to fuck her tonight, and the thought gave me a hot, clawing sense of panic. He’d slide down those shoulder straps and put his mouth all over her bronzed skin.

I tilted the champagne flute and drained it in one go.

“Thirsty?” Keri muttered.

“Sidney, Keri, great to see you,” Killian said, laying his hand on the back of his date’s back. “You both look great tonight. This is Celia.”

“Hey,” Celia said, grinning brightly and waving.

Lance joined us just then and handed me a glass of wine. “Your favorite, sweetheart.”

I sipped it, an awkward silence falling around us.

Killian extended his hand to Lance. “Killian Bosch.”

Lance shook his hand. “Lance Holt.”

“Are you Sidney’s boyfriend?” Killian asked.

After a beat of silence, I answered. “No. He’s an old friend.”

Lance’s grin disappeared. “A friend who’s been inside you,” he murmured just loud enough for everyone to hear.

My lips parted with shock and I turned to speak quietly to Lance, “You did not just say that. I knew I never should have let you come here tonight. You are embarrassing me.”

“Sorry, I forgot—you control all,” he said sarcastically.

Thankfully the waiter appeared again and Celia swept two glasses of champagne from his tray, taking a sip from one and then the other. “Can you believe this stuff is free? It’s not my favorite, but if it’s free and it’ll get me drunk, I’ll take it!”

In a matter of a minute, the evening had gone south and it was hard to decide who was the more embarrassing, Lance or Celia.

Taking charge of the situation as only a seasoned PR person could do, Keri said, “Sid, why don’t I take you to meet the charity’s CEO?” Taking my arm she said, “We’ll be back.”

“That was awkward,” I said softly when we were out of hearing range.

“Lance is being a tool,” she said.

“As usual, I might add. And I own shoes that are smarter than Killian’s date.”

Keri laughed and nodded in the direction of a tall, silver-haired man nearby. “Max Martin. CEO of the charity. You ready to meet him?”

I nodded. “I certainly am. A distraction from the personal stuff would be more than welcome right now.”

Hopefully I could dodge Lance until it was time for dinner. He was acting like an insecure idiot and seeing Killian had only reinforced how right I was to have broken up with him. I’d never really felt a strong, definitive spark with Lance and his antics tonight killed any feelings I might have had for him. But with Killian, I felt a bolt of lightning that was almost too powerful to resist.

Killian

Sidney had a way with people. I didn’t even have to hear what she was saying to the circle of people clustered around her to know why they were all smiling. She was engaging them in conversation, asking them questions, and then laughing and nodding as she listened to their responses.

Celia, on the other hand, was chattering about the great new spray tan place she’d found.

“No tan lines,” she’d proclaimed, waggling her brows up and down.

“Cool,” I said, sipping from my bottle of beer.

“I’m so glad you called me,” she continued. “I was starting to think you never would.