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Thirty-Five

SUNNY

Rhodes and I are very much out of our element.

We stroll into the club after skipping the line—something I can honestly say I have never done before—and stand awkwardly.

“This way.” Rhodes’s hand briefly falls to the small of my back. He walks beside me, never letting me trail, until we get to a big booth tucked in the back of the hazy club.

It’s dark on the dance floor besides a few strobe lights alluding to all the racy dancing happening. The booth is tucked far enough away that it’s not too difficult to hear over the thumping music.

I find Scottie first.

Her eyes light up, and she scrambles out of the booth to envelop me in a hug. “You made it! Happy birthday!”

Rhodes slides next to Emory, who’s sitting beside a few guys that I vaguely recognize. I assume they’re the husbands or significant others of the other girls I’ve spent time with watching the Blue Devils.

“We’re getting drinks!” Georgia shouts to the guys. She’s the loudest one during the games, always buzzing with excitement.

“What do you like?” Scottie loops her arm within mine.

“Um…” I glance backward, a little unsure of myself. Rhodes is in a conversation with his teammates, not even paying attention.

He seems so cool and collected all the time.

It’s infuriating.

“I don’t know,” I finally say. “I guess I’ll just do a whiskey sour.”

It was my grandpa’s favorite.

“One whiskey sour, two cosmos, and I’ll have a Shirley Temple.”

Scottie’s smile comes back into view. “I’m not pregnant,” she clarifies. “I just don’t drink much.”

I nod. “I don’t drink much either.”

Hattie, one of the wives, puts her arm around me. “But you’re making an exception tonight because it’s your birthday. Plus, we’re officially welcoming you to our pack.”

I glance at the three of them. “Thank you for doing this. My birthday isn’t a big deal, but I’m happy to celebrate being welcomed into the pack.”

Scottie grabs my drink from the bartender. “Your birthday is a big deal.” She hands it off to me. “Now drink up. We’re heading to the dance floor after this.”

We cheers our drinks and go back to the booth where Malaki, Kane, and two other younger guys are standing around.

Malaki locks eyes with me and gets the goofiest look on his face. My cheeks turn fifteen shades of red when he starts belting the words to “Happy Birthday.”

“ Oh god .” I dive into the booth to hide from the attention.

Rhodes laughs under his breath, and I elbow him in the ribs.

“It’s cute that you think that hurt,” he mutters, putting his arm on the back of the booth.

I grumble and take a sip of my drink.

Malaki slides next to me. I’m in a sandwich between the two of them, and it feels like I’ve known them forever.

Emory, one of the best goalies in the league, according to the reporters the other night, buries his head into Scottie’s neck. Even under the dim light, I see the lovey look on her face.

Two drinks down, casual conversation amongst the table, a song change, and the next thing I know, I’m being tugged out of the leather booth on less stable legs than I arrived with.

“Oh no.” I shake my head. “I don’t dance.”

Rhodes scoffs. “Yes you do. I’ve seen you.”

I glare at him. Whose side is he on?

“What? When?”

“With Ellie.” There's a challenge in his eyes. Like he’s daring me to argue.

He’s right. Ellie and I dance all the time.

“Come on, birthday girl,” Malaki pleads.

The rest of the girls, even Scottie, dash to the floor.

Rhodes casually moves closer to me and lowers his voice. “Boc, boc. ”

A laugh erupts from my mouth. “Did you just ‘boc’ at me?”

His lip lifts, and I can’t help but notice how my body becomes fully charged at the sight.

The lights play with the sharp curve of his jaw, as if he needed any more help looking hot.

“You’re acting like a chicken. So yes, I did just boc at you.” He straightens his back and rests along the leather.

I sigh.

The booth has mostly cleared out. Malaki is ordering a drink at the bar, and Kane is in a conversation with some blonde paying us no mind.

I raise my chin. “Maybe I should ‘boc’ back at you, then.”

Rhodes peers at me over the rim of his cup. His fingers tighten against the glass. “You saying I’m afraid to dance with someone?”

“I sure am.”

The alcohol in my system, even if it isn’t much, gives me just enough confidence to throw some jabs back at him.

He’s right, though. I’m afraid.

I’m nervous I’ll panic and start shaking right there on the dance floor for all to see. I’m too untrusting now. All it’ll take is one wrong touch, and I’ll spiral.

Rhodes’s glass cup clinks on the table. He tips his chin and locks eyes with me. We’re at an impasse. My heart skips a beat when he nudges me and climbs out of the booth.

I suck in a sharp breath when he leans into my space. “You should know that I love to prove people wrong, Sunshine.”

Every time he calls me that, I grow warm.

He briskly slides past and goes in the direction of the dance floor.

My knees buckle from the way he grabs a random woman around the waist and presses her against his body.

Okay, now I’m hot.

I know a challenge when I see one.

Malaki eyes me from the bar. He wiggles his eyebrows at me, and I place my empty drink onto the table.

Georgia spots me heading their way, and the excitement is palpable. Scottie, Hattie, and Georgia quickly surround me, and our laughter fills the air. It reminds me of when Ruby and I used to go out on our nights off. I didn’t realize how much I missed letting go until now.

Malaki places another whiskey sour in my hand before heading over to the guys.

They’re keeping an eye on us.

Not just the Blue Devils, but others too.

Rhodes, with the woman still pressed against him, keeps his gaze directly pinned to me.

It’s comforting and unnerving at the same time.

Not wanting to cross too much of a boundary—because he is still my boss, after all—I don’t dance provocatively like every other woman.

Scottie ends up moving over to Emory, and they’re slow dancing together, even though the song is thumping with bass.

They’re sickeningly cute.

I turn with the feel of someone grabbing my waist.

Disappointment lands abruptly on my shoulders when I realize it isn’t Rhodes.

Wait, what?!

“Hi.” Two dark-blue eyes stare into mine. A beat of silence passes before he smiles and shakes his head. “Sorry, that sounded lame. I just couldn’t not come say something to the sexiest woman in this club.”

A sarcastic noise falls from my mouth. “Yeah right,” I argue.

I look around, briefly catching the eye of Rhodes. Stop looking at me like that!

His eyes flare with…excitement?

Encouragement?

I can’t tell.

“Sounds like you need to be reminded what just existing does to a man.”

I put my attention back on the blue-eyed guy.

He’s close to my age, and he’s cute enough.

“Do you want to dance?”

“Dance?” I slowly swallow.

I’m fine.

I can do this.

“Sure.”

He wraps his arm around my waist, and I place my hand on his shoulder. The song switches, and it’s fast-paced. He tips the neck of his beer to my cup, and then we both take a drink. The more I drink, the easier it gets.

I know my limits, of course, but by the end of the song, my cup is empty, and I’m starting to feel flushed.

“Ready to be reminded?” My dance partner licks his bottom lip, and suddenly, the club is spinning, and I’m facing the other direction.

I snag onto Rhodes.

He locks eyes with me, and I exhale.

He’s sitting at the table, alone, with his hand on a full cup of beer.

He squints at me.

I’m fine, I answer silently with a quick shake of my head.

He raises his glass and winks, like he’s happy for me. Or proud? Both?

It’s definitely the alcohol in my system that’s causing me to feel satisfied at the thought of pleasing him.

My attention is pulled away quickly when the hand on my hip flings me backward onto…what is his name?

“Wait, what is your name?” I tip my head against his chest.

His breath is warm and smells of beer. “Simon. You?”

“Millie.”

I hear a grunt of laughter from beside me. It’s Malaki. We make eye contact, and he smashes his lips, looking elsewhere.

Millie?

Nerves work their way into my stomach. It was a defense mechanism. Simon doesn’t need to know my real name just in case he ever decides to look me up after this.

“Here’s your reminder of what you do to a man, Millie.”

Confusion settles against my face when he pulls me toward him again. I’m flush against his front. My pulse skyrockets with his hands guiding me to move against him. The ridge of his hard length grates against the curve of my butt, and considering I haven’t been with a guy in quite a while, it awakens something. Heaving breaths leave him, coating the side of my neck.

“Want to go get a drink?” His voice is ragged.

“Yeah.” I’m out of breath. “A drink would be good.”

I let him lead me to the end of the bar toward the bathroom.

Rhodes’s earlier point drives in further with the heat in my belly and tinge of alcohol in my blood. Most twenty-six-year-olds get lucky on their birthday.

“What are you drinking?” Simon asks.

I stare at him.

He stares at me.

Then he drops his gaze to my mouth.

Anticipation crawls down my spine, but if I don’t try to push past it, then I’m afraid I never will.

Simon grabs my hand, and I let him pull me toward the bathrooms.

The hue of the club starts to dissipate, and my confidence wavers.

You’re fine.

I think about all the drunken makeout sessions in college bar bathrooms that I’ve had and the times when things went further.

But that was all before…

Simon waits until the passerby, a girl with glassy eyes, disappears into the bathroom before advancing. Suddenly, I’m pressed against the wall with his jean-clad leg in between mine.

He grabs my face, and my pulse flies.

“You’re fucking sexy, Millie.”

Millie?

Oh yeah, that’s me.

His mouth hovers over mine, and I think I’m finally ready to break the streak, but then he grabs my wrists. He pins them both above my head, and I freeze.

I do nothing while he kisses me.

It’s like I’m paralyzed.

I tug on his grip, but he’s either too drunk to feel it or doesn’t care.

My lungs constrict, and I start to shake.

I don’t like my hands pinned.

It makes me feel trapped.

“You’re coming home with me,” he mumbles before sweeping his tongue into my mouth.

“No,” I mutter. “Can we sto…stop?”

I need to take a breath.

He grips my chin harder when I try to move. “You are hot as f?—”

I bend at the knees when he suddenly disappears.

A tight gasp flees from my mouth.

Why am I like this? God.

With the back of my hand, I press on my swollen lips and slowly stand up straight.

Rhodes towers over Simon with a look on his face that I can only describe as deadly. “She said stop.”