Page 17 of Connectio

“Then why are you building that wall of yours? For once, don’t. Don’t build it. Enter a relationship without the fucking wall.”

She glances sideways at me again, and I know she knows I’m upset. I rarely swear out loud. It’s not a good habit to have when you teach children.

“Now”—Carly drops her hand from the steering wheel and pats my leg—“how ‘bout you tell me what’s going on?”

I huff and say, “Nothing,” but then decide to tell her what I really think. “Actually, I will tell you. Here you are with a drop-dead gorgeous guy, and you choose to push him away. You do this all. The. Time. It’s not fair. Where’s my drop-dead gorgeous guy, the one who if he showed even the slightest bit of interest in me, like Derek shows you, I would certainly not push away?”

Carly dips her head, and I know she feels bad.

Good.

But now I feel worse.

Because I just inadvertently realised I’m jealous she has her Prince Charming and I don’t.

* * *

A few hours later,Carly, Sal, Brooke, and I are at Opals, one of the nightclubs at City Towers.

Contemporary, sleek décor fits out the building, and with three levels dedicated to various musical genres, the nightclub caters to everybody. Carly knows the owner, so when we arrive, we’re escorted to a VIP roped-off section near the stage with our very own private bar.

“This is so awesome!” Sal beams. “How do you know the owner again? What’s his name… Bryce?” She happily sips her Cosmopolitan, her brown wavy hair pinned into a sexy mess of curls on top of her head. She’s wearing a black and gold-speckled off-the-shoulder top, which complements her black dress pants.

“He and my bestie Alexis are seeing each other. They live in the penthouse,” Carls explains. She smooths down her black-sequinned shift dress, which rests midthigh. As always, she looks like a million bucks.

Sal’s eyes widen. “No shit! Really? They live in the penthouse?”

“Yeah, really!” Carls sweeps her long, blonde hair off her shoulder and throws back her Slippery Nipple shot.

I give her a sceptical glare. “Are you going to pace yourself tonight?”

She licks her lips. “Probably not.”

Just as she’s about to scoop up her second shot, a masculine hand darts out of nowhere and swipes it from her, the contents of the small glass disappearing into the hand-owner’s mouth.

“Mm.” The guy gives her a boyish grin. “I love a good Slippery Nipple.”

My jaw drops, and I’m about to shove the jerk for stealing her drink and being an inappropriate pig, when Carly smiles at him, recognition in her eyes.

“It just so happens that I like Slippery Nipples as well, and now you”—she presses her finger into his chest—“owe me one.”

“Carly—” He licks the rim of the glass, his voice low, playful, and sexy as hell. “—if it weren’t for Derek beating me to a pulp, I’d totally give you one.”

I swallow and nearly choke, all of sudden craving a Slippery Nipple too—they must be good.

She rolls her eyes at him. “Derek beat you to a pulp? Surrre. I’m almost certain he wouldn’t give a flying fuck what you gave me.”

“Are you shittin’ me?” He steps back and lets out a deep belly laugh, and I take it he knows Derek well.

“No, I’m not shittin’ you. Derek has never once hinted he and I are anything more than just ‘extra-special’ friends, Will.” She motions the bartender over. “I’ll have four Slippery Nipples. What do you girls want?” Carly turns in our direction, finally acknowledging we’re standing next to her.

Sal giggles and waves her fingers, but I just purse my lips at the rude bitch.

“Shit! Sorry! Will, these are my friends and work colleagues, Sally, Brooke, and Labia. Girls, this is Will, Derek’s mate.”

Heat burns my cheeks. Did she just introduce me as a vagina?

“Labia?” The arrogant jerk rests his knuckle on his lips, his amused eyes raking me from top to toe and back again. “Doesn’t get any sweeter than that.”