Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,50

low. “Fancy that.”

I lowered my hand to my side and frowned. “You won’t tell my brothers that I’m here, right?”

He didn’t respond, and it made me nervous as I glanced around, making sure they weren’t in close proximity. “Kale, you’re my best friend; you can’t throw me under the bus here,” I pleaded. “You know Lochlan will go crazy and embarrass me.”

Layton would just be disappointed and give me a lecture about the dangers of partying, alcohol and boys. Lochlan, on the other hand, would go insane, and if I didn’t have Layton on my side to defuse the situation, I would be toast.

Kale grunted to himself, then said, “You shouldn’t be here.” He lowered his eyes to my body and swallowed. “Especially dressed like that.”

I felt a little giddy when his eyes lingered on my midriff and legs a little longer than necessary. “Please, it’s just a skirt and crop top,” I said, waving his worries off.

He licked his lips. “Have your legs always been this long?”

I looked down at my legs, then back up to Kale, my eyebrow raised. “I’ve been five foot nothing since I was twelve. They’re still short and stumpy.”

His eyes didn’t waver from said legs. “They don’t look stumpy. They look longer.”

I snorted and shook my head. “You’re losing your mind.”

“I think I am, because your legs are seriously looking good to me right now – and so is the rest of you. Since when do you dress like this?” he asked, and swayed a little.

“Are you drunk?” I quickly grabbed his arms. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m good, just a little tipsy.” He shrugged. “Just a couple cans of Bud, but we did some Jack Daniel’s shots when we got here. Three of them, I think. Or maybe it was four?”

Whisky? I thought on a groan. Brilliant.

My Uncle Harry loved Jack Daniel’s, but he always said it was a grown man’s drink for a reason, and seeing Kale struggle to keep his balance proved that theory correct. He wasn’t slurring and still had his wits about him, but he was slowly starting to fade.

I opened my mouth to ask if he wanted me to get him a glass of water, but out of nowhere two girls appeared at his side and shamelessly pressed their bodies up against him, giggling. “Hey, Kale,” the red-headed girl on his left purred. “Do you remember me?”

“And me?” her blonde friend murmured.

I glared at the both of them, anger and jealousy swirling inside of me. “If you have to ask, maybe neither of you was very impressive.”

I clamped my mouth shut when I realised I’d just spoken out loud, while Kale, on the other hand, laughed. Both girls ignored him and narrowed their eyes at me, moving to step towards me, but Kale prevented them from getting near me – thank God. He stepped forward and blocked my body with his.

“I don’t think so, ladies.”

I heard annoying complaints, and threats, but instead of Kale getting mad at the obvious ex-mattress-dancing partners he was turning down, he politely sent them on their way with the wish of them having a great and safe night.

Even tipsy he was almost too perfect, and it irritated the hell out of me. He turned to face me, grinning down at me. “Are your claws stowed, kitty?” he asked.

I pretended not to know what he was talking about. “Can I get you some water?” I asked.

He chuckled and took hold of my hand, sending jolts of electricity up and down my spine. “Come with me. I want to talk to you somewhere I can hear you clearly.”

I followed him then and was surprised to find he was leading me back up the stairs Lavender and I had just descended. At the thought of my friend, I cringed. “Shit, Lavender,” I grumbled, and looked over my shoulder but saw no sign of her.

She was probably still with Daven, the prick.

“Where are you bringing me?” I shouted over the blaring music to Kale.

“Somewhere quiet,” he replied, and led me down a long hallway and took a right, then opened the first door on the left. We entered a white bedroom that was dimly lit by a lamp in the corner of the room.

“Whose bedroom is this, pup?” I asked Kale.

I heard the door close.

“It’s a guest room.”

I blinked and turned to face him, only to find him leaning against the now closed bedroom door. “How do you know it’s a guest room?” I quizzed.

He