Page 16 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

“Hey,” I yelled, “I had to flash the bartender to get that for free.”

“Best tits I’ve seen in a while,” Adriana piped up from behind the bar and winked at me. “Didn’t expect the piercings.”

We all knew it was a blatant lie, but Noah’s eyes still dropped to my chest. My white shirt fittingly spelled out the words “No Bra Club” across my boobs.

Cheeks tingeing red and lips pulling into a straight line, Noah forced his eyes to the stage.

As fate would have it, there were some actual pierced nipples there. They just belonged to a guy.

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can you please make me another one?” I batted my lashes at Adriana.

“Noah, do you want to pay by card or do you want to flash me your nips?” she cackled.

Noah set his jaw and slapped his cast member ID on the counter. “At least drink the water, too,” he growled and slid the full glass closer to me.

He hadn’t come to check up on us. He’d come to the show to check up on me .

He thought I’d fuck up tomorrow by getting blackout drunk tonight.

“Do you always come to these? Do you have a favorite down there?” I asked.

“Let me guess, the guy with the slutty little glasses. Gives the illusion of being a goody-two-shoes, right?”

Noah ignored me and turned to Adriana, leaning both elbows on the counter. I blamed the alcohol for noticing the flex in his biceps. “How long’s the show? ”

“Another hour or so,” Adriana replied as she served me my replacement drink.

Noah checked the clock on his phone and ran a hand over his eyes and down his face.

“Go home, Young. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Fine.”

I shook my head at this ridiculous man. I did take both my cocktail and the water back to the table though.

“I’ve got her,” Adriana huffed as we slotted Zuri into her passenger seat. Three drinks over three hours and she was going to have the worst hangover tomorrow. Lightweight.

“I love you,” Zuri mumbled, patting Adriana’s arm, eyes already falling shut.

“I love you too. Now buckle up.” Adriana chuckled and winked at me over the top of her car door. “Told you. They’re all falling back in love with me one drink at a time.”

“You’re a genius.” I grinned and shook my head. I wasn’t drunk but that little shaking still made my world spin, and I had to close my eyes for a second to stay upright.

“Are you sure that you’re okay to get home?”

“I’m fine,” I said, “it’s like five minutes.”

The walk over to staff housing would actually be good to burn off a bit more of that alcohol.

“Okay, text me when you get home.”

“I’ll text Sanny that you’re on your way,” I said and waved them off. Once Adriana’s car was off the lot and on the street, I sighed and turned to the shadows. “Stop creeping. Let’s go home. ”

“I’m not creeping,” Noah said.

“You could have gone home already. Instead, you followed us out the bar and you’re waiting for me in a dark parking lot. That’s creeping,” I said and started toward our housing complex.

His feet pounded into the pavement as he jogged to catch up with me. Hand on the small of my back, he directed me to the inside of the sidewalk, so he could walk by the curb.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Sidewalk rule,” he said.

I just blinked at him with raised brows. That had to be the most outdated crap I’d heard in a long time. As if he could somehow protect me if a car came barreling toward us, just because he was a big muscly manly man walking thirty inches closer to the street.

He sighed at my expression. “It’s just good manners. Like holding open a door or pulling out a chair.”

“Good manners, huh? And you keep calling me a princess.” I shook my head and narrowed my eyes at the dimly lit street before us. It was awfully quiet. My ears were still ringing from the saloon. My pulse still racing. “We should go skinny-dipping.”

“Esra,” he moaned, more exasperation in those four letters than I ever thought possible.

“Climb up on a hay bale,” I said, desperate for anything more fun than crawling into bed and scrolling on my phone. “Teach me how to ride a tractor. Uhm… line dance.”

“You want to learn how to line dance?” he asked.

“Well, what is it that you country boys do for fun, huh? Tip cows? ”

He smirked. “Sure, let’s go tip some cows.”

“Really?” I turned on the sidewalk. Too fast. My ankle didn’t stop the spin, twisting too far. My vision was too blurry. I felt my leg give before I could stop it.

“No, not really,” Noah grunted as his hands wrapped around my waist, in the exact same spot they always did.

He kept me upright. Except this time, his fingers dug into the naked skin between my jeans and my crop top.

While any other man might have lingered, well-mannered Noah Young dropped his touch the second I was steady again.

Ugh. Boring.

“Shoot at cans?” I suggested. “Blow up heads of lettuce with fireworks?”

“Jesus,” he sighed and started walking again. “What kind of hillbilly redneck shit do you think we get up to here?”

“Well? What do you do for fun?” I asked.

He opened and closed his mouth. He furrowed his brow. For a minute or so, we walked in complete silence while his face scrunched up more and more with each step.

“Noah, do you have fun ? Not just a little amusement. Actual fun?” I asked as we crossed on to the staff housing lot.

“Sure,” he replied stiffly and opened the door for me. “Time for bed, princess. Big day tomorrow.”

Ugh. Bed. I crinkled my nose at him. “Party pooper.”

“Buzzkill sun, killjoy moon, I know.”