Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,145

thing if I go. I don't have to get wasted to have fun. I'm sure Daniel would advise me to stay home, but showing my face is always good for business.

Sylvia and Daniel both think I need this fiancée shit to show I'm straightening up my life. But why can't I have the best of both worlds? Why can't I still go out, and just not get drunk?

I'm not an alcoholic, I don't need to drink to have fun. The fake engagement is great for magazines and the newspaper, but meeting people in person is where you really connect with your fans.

Everyone loves when they see me out in the city, and the rush I get from it is hard to deny myself. When they see you, when they can reach out and touch you, their excitement is like a drug.

I'm not sure I can really go without it. A little taste won't hurt, not if I stay in control.

One night out isn't going to destroy shit. I'll go for a few hours, make an appearance, and call it a night. No shots, no getting drunk, no losing control, no fighting.

The rules are easy to follow. How hard could it be?

“I'm in.”

The music pumps out of the speakers as the lights pulse to the beat. Frank is like a fucking social butterfly. He's high-fiving people, fist bumping, and hugging almost everyone we pass.

I throw a smile out beside him, trying to enjoy myself. I'm nodding here and there, taking a picture every few feet, and forcing a smile to go with it.

It just feels weird, like something's missing. It's a lonely feeling, like I'm walking solo in a storm made of fire. I'm smiling, but I don't feel happy. I'm laughing, but nothing's really funny. People are talking to me, and I'm acting like I'm listening, but I really don't care.

I don't even know why I'm here, I don't really want to be here, but old habits die hard.

I wish Sylvia were here.

We squeeze through the crowded club, making our way to the bar. When we reach the bar, Frank leans over and yells into my ear, “What are you drinking?”

Shaking my head, I wave a hand. “Nah, I'm good.”

I don't need to drink to have a good time. I can be here and have fun without the alcohol. Even though I'm 'engaged', my fans still need to see me.

“Awe, come on, Phade. One drink.”

“I'm good, Frank, really.”

“Phade,” he says, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “One drink won't kill you. Come on, just one.”

It's just one, I can handle one.

“Okay, just one.” Holding up a finger, I give him a stern look. “Just one, and nothing too strong. I need to function later if you know what I mean.” Grabbing my dick, I stick out my tongue, and grin.

Frank tips his head back and opens his mouth wide, letting out a cackle like a hyena. “One drink?” he asks between loud inhales. “When did you become such a fucking pussy? I swear, man, you're losing your fucking mind.” He leans over the bar, waving his arm to get the bartender's attention.

When they're close enough, he orders our drinks, and I have no clue what he's getting us. I can't hear shit between the music and the banter of the people around us.

The bartender grabs a couple glasses and starts pouring several different alcohols into them. Giving each one a stir and a garnish of mint, he slides them across the smooth surface.

Frank takes his and passes me mine. Holding up his glass, he sucks it down in one giant gulp. “Well, you're not going to let me drink alone are you?”

“Bottoms up.” Saluting him, I tilt my head back, and swallow the entire glass. “There, feel better.”

“I will,” he says, passing me another glass immediately with a smile. “Let's consider this your pre-bachelor party party.”

Shaking my head no, I hold up my hand, not wanting to take it. “No, I said one.”

“All right, then let's make this your one.” I eye him for a moment, giving him a serious look. “I'm serious, last one, I won't push anymore on you. Scout's honor.”

“You were never a scout.” Under hooded lids, I arch a brow.

“Guilty, you caught me. But, what the hell, just take the drink, dickhead.”

“Fine, but this really is the last one.” Taking the glass, I suck it down quickly, feeling it burn the back of my throat.

“Phade Manson and Frank Delatorro, I never would have expected this. Daniel