herd me toward the bar. "Max Steele, don't brush me off. Sooner or later, I'm going to need to know what's going on."
He gave me a weak smile, linking his fingers together behind my back. "I know. But can it be later? I really like it when you don't hate me." He leaned down, bringing his lips to mine for a coaxing sort of kiss, and I melted into him.
I groaned slightly as the hardness of his piercing teased my tongue, and I tried to shove aside my anxiety about the immediate future. But nothing could shift the sinking feeling his words had given me. His total certainty that whenever I discovered all their secrets, I'd inevitably hate him once more.
"Fine," I murmured when he broke away from our kiss. "But we're revisiting this later."
He gave me a short nod. "But not tonight," he added, linking our fingers together as we walked over to the bar.
I wanted to push the issue further, but I also agreed. I didn't want to know all their secrets and lies tonight. I wanted to get naked and fucked six ways to Sunday with Steele... or Kody. Or both. A girl could dream, right?
"Hey, there you are!" Bree announced as Steele helped me navigate the crowd to reach her, Kody, and Dallas near the end of the long bar. "I thought you got lost or something."
Her smile was touched by a small frown as she looked down at my fingers interlinked with Steele's. I wasn't letting go of him in a hurry, though, so she could speculate all she wanted. Contrary to popular belief, we didn't always need to tell our girlfriends every aspect of our sex lives, and I'd been keeping my mouth shut on my involvement with Kody and Steele. But it didn't take a genius to work it out simply based on body language and familiar touches.
"What did you order?" I asked her, deflecting the question written all over her face. On the bar top was a tray holding a whole array of drinks, and I was eager to get the party started. Within reason, obviously, seeing as I had no interest in getting blackout drunk when people were trying to kill me.
Bree beamed, happy with the topic of discussion. "Come on, let's get somewhere to sit, and we can drink a few of these before we dance."
Dallas snorted a laugh, sipping whiskey from his cut-crystal glass. "I'm not fucking dancing."
My bubbly friend just glared at him, then indicated he carry the drinks tray as she led the way to a circle of chairs around a low table beside the dance-floor. It was marked with a reserved sign, but as we approached, a staff member nodded to Kody and removed the sign.
Fancy.
For a while, the five of us sat and chatted and drank like actual friends. Like people who didn't have shady, dangerous pasts or psychotic killers hunting them. Like none of us had ties to violent gangs or... whatever else was going on. It was nice. It was exactly what I needed after the stress of my exams and the paranoia of my stalker delivering dead animals and unwelcome sex pictures.
"Oh, I love this song!" Bree exclaimed when a new tune came on, and she started bopping her head. "Come on, we need to dance." She held her hand out to me, indicating that I get up with her.
I laughed, but didn't object. I used to love going dancing with Bree, and I was just the perfect level of tipsy to let myself go on a crowded dance floor.
Bree led the way, shaking her ass to the catchy beat as she found a space on the dance floor somewhere between the two stripper runways. She grinned at me under the flashing lights, grabbing both my hands and urging me into a groove with her. Not that I needed a whole lot of encouragement in that department.
"Yes, girl," she cackled as I started my hips moving and became one with the music. "Aw, there's the MK I know! I missed you!" She was all emotional drunk, looping her arms around my neck and bringing her body close to mine while she danced.
Her words kind of pissed me off, but I chalked it up to the number of shots she'd downed before we came out to the dance floor. But seriously, given everything I was dealing with, I'd think the shift in my personality was to be expected.