Page 5 of His to Cherish (Club Wyld #5)

LILLY

M y mouth feels dry as I look up at the brick building.

I’m still not entirely sure where I am. There isn’t a sign, but I’m sure this is where Oliver went.

I followed his car all the way to this building then drove past as slowly as I could, watching while he handed his keys to another valet and walked through a heavy mahogany door.

I’d been way too curious not to get a closer look, so I parked and followed him to the building.

But there’s nothing to tell me what kind of establishment my best friend just walked into.

I consider opening the heavy mahogany door myself, but I’m not sure that’s the smartest move.

What if this place is a strip club or something?

Pain stabs me in the gut. The idea that he would turn me down and then immediately go out to find strippers is too terrible to contemplate.

“Well, hello there.”

I jerk around to see that a man has joined me on the sidewalk. He grins down at me in a way that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up—he looks hungry.

“Are you heading inside?”

I gulp, not sure how to answer that. I do want to go inside, if only to settle this raging curiosity once and for all.

“I was hoping to,” I tell him, hoping my vagueness will cover for the fact that I have no idea what I’m getting into.

The man eyes me up and down. “You know, it’s not possible to go inside Club Wyld without a pass.”

Club Wyld? What in the hell is that? What kind of club requires a pass to get into?

“Of course, I could bring you in with me ,” the man says, his gaze getting stuck on my legs. “But I have to warn you, this place isn’t for the faint of heart.”

I’ve come this far, I tell myself. There’s no way I can just go home now. I need to know what, exactly, my best friend is trying to hide.

So I follow the man into the building. A gorgeous woman greets him, and asks to see my ID. She makes a note on a clipboard before smiling at us. “Enjoy your evening.”

The man puts his hand at my lower back, and I don’t really like how it feels. But I’m not backing out now. So I follow him, heart racing as I wonder what on earth I might see through the next door.

“Huh,” I mutter when we step out of the reception area. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this is kind of a letdown. It looks like a high end, old-world club, with dark wood paneled walls and furniture. The kind of place where rich old men sit around and smoke cigars and talk business.

But it’s not only men in here tonight. Trying to take it all in, I follow the stranger to the bar. There are plenty of people here, and they all look rich. Not in an ostentatious way—the exact opposite, actually. This club has the air of people comfortable with their position, with their wealth.

It doesn’t really fit with my image of Oliver.

He isn’t old money—he grew up nearly as poor as I did.

It wasn’t until his app took off that he started raking in the millions.

Yes, he drives a fancy car and he dresses well, but he’s always seemed just as happy to hang out with me in Hoops, or on my couch, than he does in his boardroom or at a fancy restaurant like we went to tonight.

Yet he apparently has a membership here. One I knew nothing about. Do I even know my best friend at all?

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” the stranger asks as he hands me a glass of red wine from the bar.

“Lilly,” I tell him, feeling a swell of nerves. Ollie would kill me if he saw me taking a drink from a stranger—I don’t even know this guy’s name.

“Lilly,” he says, giving me that same appraising leer as he had outside. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You, um, too.” I glance around the room again. “So, uh, what kind of place is this, exactly?”

He studies me, and I can’t identify the dark flash I see in his eyes. “You really have no idea?”

I shake my head, feeling silly and out of place. I want to take a sip of my wine, just to have something to do with my hands, but years of Oliver’s warnings stop me.

“I could tell you,” the man says, leaning close. Too close. “Or I could just show you.”

“I…um.” I cast another glance around, fear growing in my chest. Is Oliver here somewhere?

I don’t think I want this man to show me anything.

In fact, I want to wish him a good night and walk away.

But what if they make me leave for not being with a member?

I’m about to ask the guy if he knows Oliver when I see a blur of movement in front of us.

Suddenly, my best friend’s narrowed eyes are mere inches from my face. And he looks pissed .

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” he growls.

“Ollie,” I gasp, stumbling back in surprise. The stranger at my side braces me with a hand on my back and Oliver turns his murderous glare away from me.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

“I will when you get the hell out of her face,” the guy shoots back. “That’s not how we treat submissives here.”

Everything seems to go still around me, the buzz of conversation and music in the club fading into nothingness. Submissive? Is that what this man just called me?

“Ollie?” I whisper, gaping up at him, praying he can explain this in some way that makes sense. His expression shifts from angry to regretful. In fact, he looks a bit sick.

Ollie says something to the stranger at my side but I can barely hear over the rushing sound in my ears. A secret club. Not for the faint of heart, the man had said. And then that word—submissive.

“Come with me,” Oliver says, his hand wrapping around my elbow.

I blink, trying to wake myself from the overwhelming haze of confusion that has settled over me.

I glance over to see the stranger is already halfway across the room.

I have no idea what Ollie said to him, but it was enough to get him to leave.

I tug my arm away from my friend. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what this is all about,” I say. “What is this place?”

He glares down at me. There’s a tick in his cheek, his jaw clenched tightly shut, and I feel a sudden shiver creep up my spine. He looks angry. He looks like it’s taking everything he has to keep in control.

But then his expression softens slightly and he reaches down to take my hand. “I didn’t say you were leaving,” he says. “I just want you to come with me.”

I want to argue some more—why can’t he just tell me what this place is right now?

—but there’s something pleading in his gaze that I can’t help respond to.

He tugs gently on my hand and I follow him as he leads me to a leather booth on the far side of the room.

It’s slightly quieter over here, most of the tables in this section empty.

Ollie runs a hand through his hair—which looks much messier than it did when he left me—and gestures for me to take a seat before sliding in across from me.

He stares at me over the table for a long moment. “How did you get here?” he finally asks.

“I drove.”

He raises an eyebrow and I shift in my seat, trickles of guilt stirring in my stomach over my sneakiness. “I followed you.”

“You followed me?”

I shrug. “I wanted to know why you were in such a rush to leave me.”

His jaw clenches again, that angry look coming back to his eyes. “I wasn’t in a rush to leave you,” he bites out. “I left because I had to.”

“Why?” I press, ready to scream with frustration. I swear if I don’t get some answers soon, I’m going to lose it.

He gestures around the room, eyes flashing, and I think he might be as frustrated as I am. “Look around, Lilly. You don’t need this shit in your life.”

“What shit? What is this place? Why did that man call me a—” I break off, unable to say that word out loud. Every time I even think it I get the strangest stirring in my belly.

Oliver closes his eyes and lets out a loud sigh. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“But you should?” I place my hands flat on the table, leaning towards him. “If this place is so awful, then why are you here?”

“Because I belong here,” he barks, eyes snapping open. I can see the angry flash in their chocolate depths. Maybe that anger should scare me, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes me want to lean even closer.

“Ollie,” I whisper, reaching my hand across the surface of the table. “Please just tell me what’s going on. We’re not supposed to keep things from each other.” I swallow. “Aren’t we best friends?”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “I have a feeling you won’t be saying that after tonight.”

My stomach drops. “Don’t even joke about that,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes. “You can’t just…Ollie, please don’t even hint that we might?—”

“Hey,” he says quickly, taking the hand still resting on the table and squeezing my fingers tightly. “Don’t cry, Lills. I can’t handle that.” I blink rapidly, trying to rid my eyes of the tears, but it’s no use. I’m overwhelmed and freaked out and still stinging from the rejection of earlier.

Ollie curses, releasing my hand. Before I know it, he’s out of his seat and around the booth, sliding onto my bench.

He grips my hips then swiftly pulls me up into his lap.

I nestle into his chest, the feel of his strong arms around me calming me immediately.

“Don’t cry, sweet girl,” he croons. “Please don’t cry.

Of course we’ll still be best friends.” His arms tighten.

“You’re the most important person in my life. You know that, right?”

“You’re the most important person in my life, too,” I whisper.

“Which is why I don’t understand any of this.

” I look up at him, his face only inches away.

God, he’s so beautiful. Even when he’s angry.

Even when I’m messy crying on his lap. “What are you hiding from me, Ollie? Why do you feel like you can’t trust me? ”

His jaw clenches. “I’m afraid this will make you feel differently about me,” he admits.

“What will? This club?”

He shakes his head. “This isn’t just any club, Lilly.”