18. Daire

EIGHTEEN

daire

RED LIGHTS FLASHED across the interior of Luxe as another pair of male dancers in sky-high stilettos took to the stage in our roped-off corner of the members-only club. They both wore barely-there G-strings that showed off their toned physiques as they each commandeered a pole and began to grind to the music.

“Why do we ever go anywhere else?” Travis said, his gaze transfixed on them as he stood up from his front-row seat and motioned for one of the guys to come closer. After he slid a Benjamin in the thin strap of the dancer’s G-string and winked, the man grabbed Travis’s hand and slapped it on the muscular curve of his bare ass cheek.

“You did it now. He’s not going to leave you alone the rest of the night,” East said, shaking his head as he watched the naughty display sprawled out across a couple of chairs with his well-polished loafers kicked up on the stage—giving absolutely no fucks, but being more than generous with the wad of cash in his lap.

I took a drag of my cigarette, holding the smoke in my lungs for a long moment before blowing it out in East’s face.

He turned his head in my direction, eyes narrowed. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Annoyed, he sought out a head of platinum hair and snapped his fingers. “Gavin, come get your bodyguard.”

Gavin stopped mid-order with the waiter and glared at East. “You did not just snap at me.”

“I did. Your roommate wants you.”

“What?” Immediately, Gavin’s eyes shot to mine, and the mix of surprise and confusion wasn’t the only thing I saw in those grey depths. There was an intensity there that had appeared after I kissed him, and I didn’t know how to make it go away other than ignoring him. Or trying to.

I broke eye contact and flicked the ashes of my cigarette into a glass tray. “He’s fucking with you.”

“Oh.” I could almost hear the disappointment in Gavin’s voice, or maybe I was just projecting. God knew I didn’t need him to think of me in any way other than his asshole roommate he had to put up with. Kissing him had been a mistake, one I wished I could erase—if only so I didn’t know how fucking sweet he tasted.

Remembering the way Gavin’s lips had opened for mine, so easily, so eager and willing, had my cock punching hard against the confines of my jeans. I wished like hell I’d had some damn self-restraint.

I couldn’t be attracted to Gavin. He’d gone through enough punishment with destructive shits to last a lifetime, and I wouldn’t add myself to the list. He wasn’t even my type, for fuck’s sake. He enjoyed being in relationships, and I limited myself to fucking red flags who refused to commit. That was what worked for us. All this overprotective crap I’d felt lately was only because I didn’t like anyone preying on someone as vulnerable and likable as Gavin.

Although…he seemed to like putting up a helluva fight with me, didn’t he? Leave it to me to rub off and bring out that bullheaded side of him. Anything to bring someone down to my level.

Fuck.I stabbed what remained of my cigarette into the tray and shoved my chair back.

I should’ve stayed out in East Hampton at my parent’s empty estate for a few more days, even though I hated the beach. These looks Gavin was shooting my way told me he wasn’t over the insanity that had come over me and made me kiss him. My body wasn’t reacting in a way that was any better, though. Something that annoyed me to no end.

Ignoring the guys’ stares—especially Gavin’s—I blew past them, heading to the bar. I didn’t even know why I bothered staying, other than not wanting to be alone with my thoughts. Arguing with East was better than the shit that lurked in my brain.

“Tequila,” I said, not bothering to sit. The bartender nodded, flipping up a shot glass and pouring the liquor inside. I grabbed it, and a second later the liquid was burning a path down my throat.

I closed my eyes, savoring the fiery warmth that flooded my body, as I did my best to block out everything around me.

Why had I agreed to come out, again? I really should’ve gone to the late-night fight I’d been texted about. That would’ve been more satisfying, and probably a hell of a lot smarter, considering where my thoughts kept going when it came to a certain someone.

Maybe I could ditch the guys, peace out early, and still get there in time to throw down a couple rounds. It would beat sitting here for the next couple hours trying to ignore the way Gavin kept looking at me.

And he was looking—a little too long, a little too hard. It was driving me fucking crazy.

My mind made up, I gestured for one last shot before I hit the road, and as the bartender slid it across the counter, I heard a trilling laugh I’d know anywhere. It was a sound that immediately set my nerves on edge and had my body tensing.

I glanced down the bar past several people who were placing orders, and there at the other end, perched on one of the high barstools, was a beautiful woman surrounded by a crowd of attentive men and a couple of women. She was dressed in killer heels, a leather mini skirt, and a corset top that barely contained what was underneath, and her thick waves of inky black hair flowed over her shoulders.

My eyes narrowed on the group as her familiar laugh once again filled my ears and she threw her head back.

I slammed the shot glass down on the bar top and started toward the crowd. I scanned the club, searching for her other half, but it was too dark, too packed, to see beyond the immediate swarm of people.

Several clubgoers cursed me out as I shoved through couples and friends gathered at the bar, but I didn’t care. My focus was on finding out what in the hell she was doing here.

When I got to her group of adoring fans, I shouldered past a few of them, but the last guy—the one who’d just made her laugh—wasn’t budging, and when a quick shove didn’t get him out of my way, I grabbed his arm, ready to throw him if need be.

“You mind?” He glared down at my hand.

“No, I fucking don’t.” I tightened my grip and pushed him out of my way.

The path cleared, and smoky, dark eyes landed on mine as her painted red lips curved into a sultry smile.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Claudia?” I demanded.

“Daire, is that any way to speak to your mother?”

Now that was a fucking laugh. Mother? The only thing Claudia knew about being a mother was how to spell it.

Her crowd of pathetic hanger-ons stared between the two of us, probably trying to wrap their inebriated brains around the fact that the stunning woman who’d been entertaining them all for God knows how long was somehow related to the scowling bastard trying to glare her to death. But hey, they’d only known her for the fun couple of minutes or hours they’d spent with her. I’d known her my whole miserable life. Or, should I say, known of her, because she sure as fuck hadn’t stuck around to get to know me.

“I don’t have a mother.” I swept my eyes over her clubbing attire, the entire wardrobe something I’d expect from girls my age. But that was Claudia, always had been, chasing the sun, living the high life, refusing to settle down as long there was money in her bank account.

Lucky for her, she had a never-ending flow of cash from a hefty inheritance, so she could stay frozen in time, as young as she wanted, free from all responsibility—even after giving birth to a baby boy. That was what nannies were for. Or so I was told.

“Why do you always have to be so ugly, Daire?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and swiveled back to face the bar. “I certainly didn’t raise you that way.”

“You didn’t raise me at all.” I moved in beside her, zeroing in on the painted nails picking up her martini glass. “Where’s Patrick?”

“You mean your father?”

“Don’t you mean my sperm donor?”

Claudia’s head whipped around and her dark eyes turned as cold and steely as mine—it was about the only thing we had in common.

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Why not? You never bothered to marry him.”

“Marriage is an archaic tradition—we don’t think like that.”

“Riiight.” I nodded, wondering if she actually believed the bullshit that came out of her mouth. “You both prefer to be able to sleep around without the guilty conscience. Whatever makes you happy.”

Claudia took a sip of her drink, her eyes narrowing on me over the rim. But if she thought I was about to apologize or make shit easy on her, she had another thing coming.

“You plannin’ to call me while you were here, or is that also an archaic tradition?”

She took another sip of her drink, and I almost kicked myself for asking. I already knew the answer. If I hadn’t run into her, I wouldn’t have even known she was in town.

“Why do you need me to call? You seem fine to me.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. And it’s not like you want for anything.” Except maybe some kind of motherly love or affection. “Your father and I made sure of that.”

“Yeah, my bank account keeps me all warm and fuzzy at night.”

“Stop being so glib.” She shook her dark hair down her back, straightening her spine. “You could have nothing. You’re lucky I even give⁠—”

When she cut her words off, I scoffed and leaned in closer to her. “I’m lucky you even give me what? Money? Food? A warm place to sleep at night?” I picked up her glass and drained her drink. “Funny, but somehow I think it would’ve been warmer if you’d thrown me out in the fucking streets compared to what you’ve ‘given’ of your cold heart.”

“You ungrateful little⁠—”

I shifted to my full height, towering over her, and she immediately swallowed her words.

“Yeah, not so little anymore.”

“You’re still ungrateful.”

“And you’re still a lousy excuse for a mother.”

Claudia’s cheeks flushed with anger, but before she could respond, I turned to get the fuck out of there. The last thing I needed was to run into Patrick, and now I really needed to hit something.

I was about to make a beeline for the door when my eyes landed on a shock of platinum hair a couple of feet away. From the look of utter bewilderment on Gavin’s face, I figured he’d caught every damn bit of my interaction with Mommy Dearest.

Great. All I needed was a witness to the shit-fest that was my life.

He started toward me, but I wasn’t doing this. I carved a path through the crowd and punched out the door onto the street, but before I could disappear into the night, I heard him call out my name.

Choosing to ignore it, I kept walking. Eventually, he stopped yelling, and I figured he’d given up and gone back inside. Until a shove from behind me sent me stumbling, and I whirled around, arm already reared back to lay out whoever had dared to touch me.

Gavin’s eyes widened, and I caught myself just in time to save his pretty face from a broken nose.

“Jesus, Daire, what the hell,” he said, holding up his hands and breathing hard like he’d run after me.

I lowered my arm, but every muscle in my body remained tense. “Get lost.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Go back inside, slip a few bills in someone’s G-string, and leave me the fuck alone.”

He crossed his arms. “No.”

“No?”

“You heard me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes. You are.”

“What, you gonna make me? Throw me over your shoulder and force me back inside?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

The second the words were out of my mouth, Gavin’s eyes heated, and I cursed at his reaction.

“That,” I said, pointing at his face. “Stop looking at me like that.”

He raised a brow and smirked. “Because you like it? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?”

The little shit.I needed to deny it, since nothing would be more idiotic than kissing Gavin a second time, but something kept my mouth shut. Maybe it was the flush creeping up his neck that I wanted to feel with my fingers. Or maybe it was the way I knew his mouth would fit so perfectly under mine…

“No,” I said, slapping myself out of those thoughts. “I won’t be that stupid again.”

A flash of hurt or disappointment, I couldn’t tell which, crossed Gavin’s eyes, and I immediately wanted to take back those words. Not that I didn’t mean them, because I didn’t need to have my lips anywhere near his⁠—

“Why didn’t you ever say anything about your parents? This whole time I’ve known you, not one word. Not to me, not to the others.”

Instantly, the brick wall I used to keep everyone away and out of my business went back up, and I scowled. “What, you’re gonna feel sorry for me now? Don’t.”

“Why not? You apparently feel sorry all the time for me, thinking I need protection twenty-four seven, butI don’t.”

“Your point?”

“My point is, if your parents are terrible humans—and from what I just saw, you’re not exactly on the best terms—you can vent that shit to your friends.” He spread his hands wide. “Like me. Like Van. Any of us. And don’t tell me we’re not your friends, because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us.”

“I’m not spilling my life story to make you feel better.”

“You never spill anything. Not a word. Don’t you get that we don’t have some ulterior motive? We just want to know you. I want to know you. I want to understand you.”

Understandme? Why? Giving him my sad little backstory wouldn’t accomplish a thing, and it wasn’t something I wanted to think about anyway. Why bother?

“There’s nothing to know,” I said.

Gavin dropped his head back with a groan. “God, you’re so frustrating.”

“Then do what I said—go away.”

I turned away from him, but his hand landed on my bicep. “I have a better idea.”

“I’m not going back inside.”

“I’m not asking you to. You don’t want to face down your crazy mom? Well, things have been crazy for me too. So why don’t we blow off some steam and have fun for a change?”

“Fun,” I repeated. “You want to punch a few fuckers, that it?”

“No.” A small smile curved Gavin’s lips. “But I do want to go and kick some ass. You in?”