Page 39 of Love by Design (Club Rapture: Risk Aware #1)

Landon held up his hands and took a step back, cheeks almost pink, but it was hard to tell under the glow of the stained glass. “Again, message received, Silas. I hope you and your friend have a good night.”

I nodded, watching Landon head toward the bar.

He passed Lincoln, who made a show of shaking his hips extra as he sashayed his way through the crowd with a drink in each hand.

Dancing bodies parted for him, their stares trailing up his backside as he closed the space between us.

Then he was there, and the wine was in my hand, my best friend was at my side, and all was well in the world again.

“Find me anyone good?” he asked.

“Didn’t have a chance to look. Just had a chat with the owner.”

“The owner?” Lincoln’s eyes went wide, and he lifted his whiskey to his mouth like it was tea. Pinky out and all that.

“He wanted to make sure I was sorted after what happened the last time.”

My best friend groaned, and I wanted to match the feeling.

“We can go look now, though. Did you see anyone good on the dance floor?”

“Maybe, but it’s hard to tell who is a couple and who isn’t,” he said.

“You know as well as I do that couples can be looking too.”

Lincoln made a very pleased sound at that prospect, nodding eagerly. “Such a valid point. Maybe we can check the upstairs first and then circle back down?”

“You don’t want to stop at the bathrooms before we go?” I teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “See if anyone is waiting there for you.”

“Oh, you mean Riot?”

I raised a brow. “Whatever happened with him?”

“He was okay at sucking dick behind closed doors but was not okay with my line of work.”

Sighing, I looped my arm through Lincoln’s and pulled him toward the dance floor. “Then he’s not worth your time.”

“I know.” He took a decent swallow from his glass and smacked his lips together.

Sliding his free hand around my waist, he pulled our bodies flush and started to dance.

I lifted my wine over my head so nobody knocked into me and spilled it, tilting my head back and relaxing enough to let Lincoln lead.

We danced through songs that bled together with the same beat, and finally, out of breath, Lincoln buried his face against my throat with a laugh.

“I wish I wanted to fuck you,” he said.

I laughed back at him, putting enough space between us to bring my wine down and finish it off.

“You really don’t,” I said.

“I know. I know.” His stare lifted over my shoulder, and he tracked someone across the dance floor toward the back stairs that led to the original private loft.

“What is it, boy?” I teased. “What did you find?”

“You’re an asshole,” he murmured, taking my hand and pulling me toward the stairs.

When we reached the top floor, I immediately recognized the man he’d spotted on the dance floor.

He was exactly Lincoln’s type. A little too tall for his own good, kind of lanky like a baby deer who hadn’t grown into their limbs yet.

If Lincoln had a type, it was pretty and awkward and this man checked both of those boxes.

“He looks lost,” I said softly.

“Maybe I should find him then.”

“I think you should.” I gave Lincoln a little shove toward the bar.

He spent less than five minutes chatting up the stranger and putting him at ease.

Ten minutes in, the man leaned in close enough that Lincoln could have kissed him if he wanted, and I knew my best friend well enough to know he did.

Another few minutes, which felt like a record, and then Lincoln took the man’s hand and walked him over to the place I’d set up camp against the wall.

“Who’s hosting?” I asked, admiring how up close the man Lincoln had set his sights on didn’t look like his bones were trying to jut out of his skin.

“He is,” Lincoln said. “Safety first and all that.”

“You text a friend anyway?” I asked.

“Yeah. Yes,” the man said.

Ah, there were the nerves.

I looked at Lincoln, unable to not smile at the way his entire face was lit with interest, then I pulled my phone out of my pocket and swiped it open to an empty message.

Holding it out for the stranger, I said, “Text me your name and address.”

He didn’t balk at the reciprocal safety measures, which made me feel a little better about leaving Lincoln on his own.

It was far from the first time either of us would have gone home with a stranger from a club—or anywhere else for that matter—but it was the first time either of us had done so after my…

Well.

After my last trip here .

He handed my phone back and I looked down at the screen, confirming there was a real address there and a name.

“Ethan,” I said, arching a brow.

He nodded.

“Alright.” I slid my phone back into my pocket and gave Lincoln a warning look. “Text me tonight.”

“I will,” he promised, wrapping me into a hug and smashing his mouth against my cheek. “Thank you for coming out with me. Are you mad I’m ditching you?”

I didn’t want to tell him that while I valued our Friday nights together, I also valued every second I got to spend with Marshall.

“Not in the slightest,” I promised.

“I think I needed the distraction.”

I puckered my lips against the air and the top of his cheekbone. “Go be distracted then.”

The two of them headed out, Lincoln in front and Ethan trailing behind.

After they weaved through the dance floor, stopping once for a very passionate make-out session near the door, they were gone.

I checked my pocket for my phone and my keys and headed out to the parking lot myself, ready to make my way across town to Marshall’s.