Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Riley

Thankfully, the club district packed their buildings close together, and therefore we could easily hop from one place to the next. Our first stop of the night was Cheerleaders , and though I’d never stepped foot in a straight strip club before, I could see the appeal.

My brother and Eric toasted their shot glasses as the rest of the party, Lane, Grayson, Henry, and even Drew Axel—Giselle’s rockstar buddy—and his boyfriend—the florist, Taylor—had come out for the event, and all were lined up at the bar, “testing” out the shots amid a myriad of fans who were taking selfies and getting their boobs signed by Drew.

“What are you waiting for? Christmas?” Grayson said as he came up beside me, holding out a shot.

I sniffed the concoction. It smelled like pumpkin-scented glass cleaner.

“What the hell is this, anyway?” I asked. I’d had two beers, which gave me an okay buzz, but I wasn’t planning on getting drunk at the first place we checked out. I wanted to take note, observe the place and Aaron’s reactions. Plus, shots weren’t really my thing, but that was what everyone seemed to gravitate toward there.

Grayson smirked, and I could see the resemblance to his sister. They both had the same look of mischief.

“It’s called a Pumpkinhead. Tastes like pumpkin pie.”

“Gross,” I said, as Grayson laughed.

“It’s not so bad if you chuck it really fast,” he teased.

“Yeah, that’s the point, right? Fastest way to drunk is with a bunch of shots.”

Grayson shrugged as he shot his in one swift motion, offering me the other.

“I prefer to get shitfaced on an exquisitely aged cab, but alas, straight men have the worst taste in drinks, I’m afraid.”

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as I shook my head. Thankfully, I wasn’t the only gay man at the strip club tonight. Though Grayson, Henry, Drew, and Taylor looked far more comfortable with all the beautiful women surrounding our party than I felt at the moment. Even surrounded by the sights and sounds, they didn’t seem to notice much more than their significant others.

In fact, as I surveyed the bar, I could see Drew and Taylor grinding on one another with smiles plastered all over their faces like lovesick teenagers.

I wished it were that easy for me. That I could have an ounce of sex appeal like Drew Axel, or the confidence of Grayson.

I took the shot from his hands, but my gaze was set on something else. Someone else. The object of my turmoil.

Ever since our car ride, something was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but whatever it was, was driving me crazy. All I wanted to do was give the guy a hug and tell him I was sorry, for whatever it was I did, because clearly I was an idiot, and I’d done something.

I watched as Eric and my brother toasted another round of shots. I thought it was the third one.

Eric seemed to get along with my brother swimmingly. Granted, they’d met before, but we’d all been far too preoccupied with our game to properly make each other’s acquaintances or get to know one another.

I watched as a woman in shorts and a bikini top sauntered over to my brother, squeezing between him and Eric.

She threw her arms around Eric, making a kissy face as she took a selfie with him. Though I couldn’t blame her. In his hot pink shirt, tight black jeans, with his gorgeous face and the charisma that just rolled off of him every time he walked into a room.

“You know you are allowed to have fun too,” Grayson said softly.

“I am having fun,” I grumbled as I downed my shot.

Grayson twisted his lips. “Aaron is having fun. Your little boyfriend is having fun. You... you are watching. You’re stalling.”

I shot Grayson a raised eyebrow of my own. “For starters, Aaron is the one who should be having fun because this is about him. About the perfect bachelor party,” I said with a sigh. “And Eric is not my boyfriend. I’m observing, you know, to take in the ambiance for scientific purposes,” I drawled sarcastically.

Grayson shook his head, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I mean, you brought him, so I assumed...”

My gaze settled on Eric’s bright smile as Aaron laughed at something he said.

“Plus, you’ve been staring at him for like ten minutes.”

Grayson’s words settled on me, stirring the hurricane inside of me again.

Had I really been staring that long?

Before I could say anything, Grayson’s tone shifted. “Shit or get off the pot, Riley. Because if you don’t make your move, I guarantee you someone else will.”

I turned to him, raising my eyes. “Excuse me?” I said.

Grayson gestured with his gaze to the woman who was now grinding on Eric, bending over to twerk her ass against his crotch, her mouth at Aaron’s waist level. Lane hooted and hollered as I watched Eric settle his hand on her jean-clad ass, and my blood boiled.

I realized as I meant to speak, I didn’t know that Eric wasn’t into women. Not every guy who liked dick hated pussy. Some preferred both.

Panic flooded me along with doubt. I’d been so focused on my own embarrassment, during our preferences conversation, it occurred to me I never asked if he had any preferences of his own.

Because I was nervous, and asking such things felt too intimate for friends.

But as the word settled in my brain—friends—I realized I didn’t like the sound of it.

I didn’t want to be friends with Eric.

I liked him. I liked him a whole hell of a lot, and as the realization struck me, I felt the air around me get thinner.

My gaze fixed on him as he danced with her, laughing with her, and I couldn’t help but feel the pang of desire to be her.

To be the one held under his captivating gaze, to feel his hand on my ass , fingers grabbing my hips.

While I stuffed his mouth full of my cock.

My cock twitched at the thought, my heart beating faster with jealousy and desire, and I realized I wanted to know everything there was to know about Eric. I wanted to be the object of his desire . This wasn’t about finding a date to my brother’s wedding.

Not anymore.

I wanted to spend as much time as I could with the man who made me feel like I’d finally awakened from a long sleep.

But for all the strides I’d made, I was still sitting in the damn dugout, watching the game be played. Because I was scared.

I was scared that if I pushed too hard, Eric would run away.

Needy.

Desperate.

Stage five clinger.

The words my exes labeled me with rolled around in my brain.

How had things become so complicated?

Why couldn’t I just walk over there, tell him how I felt, kiss him, and take him home?

I watched as Eric bent down, hands behind his back and sucked a shot from between her breasts, liquor running down his chin as Aaron fist bumped the air, the rest of the men at the bar cheering him on. He grabbed the shot glass from his mouth, slamming it down on the bar as everyone cheered. Aaron high-fived him. Watching him with my brother and the party, he fit in perfectly.

Like he belonged with them.

A fresh wave of jealousy rolled through me. Grayson’s voice pulled me from my trance, and I realized he was still standing there beside me. Watching, observing.

“He’s a pretty fish, but so are you. You’re an Evans, for Christ sake. Own that shit. Stop staring and second-guessing yourself, and get the fuck over there. Blow his fucking mind. Make him forget everyone else,” Grayson said, clapping me on the back. “That’s what I did, and it worked for me.” Grayson grinned before he headed toward Henry, who wrapped his arms around his boyfriend the moment he stepped into his proximity at the bar.

At that moment, I caught Eric’s sapphire gaze, noting how the corners of his lips turned up in a smirk. Like he was truly baiting me.

And perhaps it was the shot, or the neon lights that danced over him, or the rage of jealousy, or Grayson’s pep talk, but whatever it was, was enough.

Grayson was right. I wasn’t a clam hiding under the mud, not anymore.

I was an Evans.

My brother may have been the sporty, pretty jock, but I was not without my charms. I could be commanding, and hot, and... and...

I found myself pulled into Eric’s orbit once more as I slid between him and the pretty little tart who was downing another shot, this time with my brother and Lane.

The sounds of Dirty Dancer by Usher and Enrique came over the speakers, and in the distance, I could see a topless woman flipping herself upside down at the top of her pole, which was the only pole in the room to go from high vaulted ceiling to floor.

Okay, that’s pretty impressive, to be honest.

“Having fun yet, Professorrr?” Eric said, slightly slurring his r’s as he slammed down his shot glass.

“Not quite. Standing around doing shots isn’t my idea of fun,” I said as I slid the shot glass toward the barkeep, shaking my head to say we were done for the moment.

Aaron and Lane were laughing about something as one of the strippers tugged and pulled at Drew, begging him to take the stage with them.

Eric extended his arms along the bar, the motion drawing attention to his defined forearms. He blew some dark hair out of his eyes, with his pouty, perfect lips. He leaned back, crossing his legs, enticing me apathetically with his perfect pout, his bright blue eyes, and his flirtatious, sensual look.

His tone was cheerful, but his eyes didn’t sparkle like the usually did.

“Awww is the victor not enjoying his spoils?” Eric taunted, the alcohol making him sound huskier than usual.

“I’d enjoy it a lot more if I could pry you away from the bar... and handsy strippers,” I said as my brother and his cohorts whoomped and hollered yet again, chasing the pretty girl who was all over Eric moments ago, and Drew toward the stage.

“Oh, is that what you want...” Eric said, slowly taking a step toward me, his blue gaze full of sadness, despite the grin on his face. His dark hair fell in his face, and instinctively, I pushed it away, behind the shell of his ear.

“You want to whisk me away in your carriage off to your fucking castle, Cinderella?” he breathed out.

I settled my hand on his hips, captivated by his gaze, his hot breath on my skin.

“Like you’re my knight in shining armor?”

“There are a lot of things I want to do with you,” I whispered, letting my thumb trace his solid jawline.

Eric looked up at me, his gaze imploring mine. “Green’s a good color on you, Riley,” Eric purred, his fingers teasing the loops of my jeans.

“I’m not jealous,” I huffed as the bartender slid me a shot. “I said?—”

“This one’s from the guy down there,” he said, nodding to Grayson, who held up a shot, Henry wrapped around him like a coiled snake.

I took the shot, pursing my lips. After all, I didn’t want to be impolite. I raised it, shot it, and slammed it back down on the bar. The burn of the pumpkin-flavored vanilla liquor was prevalent, and I sucked in a deep breath.

“I’m just testing out the product. Isn’t that what you brought me here for?” Eric’s breath against my neck was warm, and I leaned closer into him, his fingertips trailing lightly over my thigh, just next to my aching cock.

I stared down at him with a mixture of fury and desire, of jealousy and arousal. I wanted to kiss him. In this stupid room full of pert breasts and clapping cheeks, underneath the neon lights.

But I wanted more too.

I wanted to explore Eric’s mysterious alleyways until I knew every corner and crevice of his mind, body, and soul.

“Dance with me,” I breathed, my heart thudding loudly in my chest. It wasn’t a request.

It was a need.

I needed to feel Eric’s body pressed against me, needed to feel his lips on mine, his hardness against mine. The desire was overwhelming, especially this close, knowing we weren’t truly alone.

Eric snickered, showcasing his pearly white canines in a way that was so undeniably hot it made me wonder if I had a fetish for sexy grins.

Or perhaps just a fetish for pretty boys with attitudes.

“Careful, Riley. You’re starting to sound like a possessive asshole. All demanding and shit,” Eric teased.

My cock stiffened in my tight pants, and a part of me worried someone—anyone—would see the burgeoning tent forming.

Seriously, how do guys wear pants this tight?

But as I looked into Eric’s pristine eyes, as the sounds of Enrique crooned about never being lonely, for the first time, I didn’t care.

I wanted someone to see us. To see me with my hands on his hips, my lips on his.

Mine, mine, mine.

“I thought you weren’t into strippers,” I said, my voice dark and gravelly as he smirked back at me.

“Awww, is that what has your panties in a twist? Worried I’ll trade you in for some pussy?” he drawled brattily.

The overwhelming desire to turn him around, bend him over the closest bar stool, and make him eat his words was a new feeling for me.

I wanted to erase anyone and everyone else from his mind, just like Grayson suggested.

“Careful, Eric , you’re starting to sound like a petulant little cock tease,” I said the words without thinking, emboldened by his behavior, the shots, and his gorgeous face.

The club music died out, and in it’s place I heard Drew Axel crooning some rock version of Taylor Swift song.

Which one I had no clue, but the words resonated with me nonetheless.

I settled my hand on Eric’s hip, gently tugging him closer. This close, his body against mine was warm, and I could feel the faint twitch of his cock against me.

Did he like this?

My own cock throbbed in response as I breathed him in, like he was oxygen.

As nervous as I was, it felt good.

Like I was breaking a barrier, jumping off a cliff.

Eric rolled his eyes, a dark chuckle escaping his throat.

“Let’s get one thing straight here, Princess,” he said as he walked his fingers up the buttons on my shirt, stopping as he grabbed me by my collar, yanking me down to his eye level.

His eyes burned like fire, and while a part of me was shocked at the touch, the strength and the force...

The rest of me was turned the hell on.

Fucking hell... This man...

“I am no cock tease. When I want something, I take it.” His words were clear, not a slur to be heard in them.

He loosened his grip just the slightest, his fingertips brushing against my skin. At this level, his lips were inches away, ripe for the taking.

I didn’t think twice. I only acted on impulse, on selfish need.

He didn’t startle or jump, or try and push me away.

Instead, his fingers slid up my neck, into the edges of my hair at the nape of my neck, seeking purchase there. He let me take his kiss like a damn robbery, and that was where I realized I was drowning.

Eric wasn’t just a pretty fish.

He was an elusive shark, and I was falling in love with him, hook, line, and sinker.