Elle arrived shortly after I did, with a few of her girlfriends, flanked by a couple of security guys from Dirty’s team.
I made a point of talking to her for a while. I’d known Elle for a long time. And even though she was pregnant last winter while I’d toured with Dirty and she wasn’t playing any live shows, she was on that tour. I’d gotten to know her pretty well. I’d hung out with her and her man, Seth—Dirty’s rhythm guitarist—a lot on the road.
Seth wasn’t here tonight, so I made sure to send him a pic of me hugging Elle in her tight little gold dress and smiling my face off.
I was thoughtful like that.
Then I settled in with Jordan and some girls she’d invited to meet us here, friends of hers.
One of them, a curvy brunette who sat right next to me, seemed to be totally into me. She put her hand on my thigh as we talked.
Leaned back against the nearby wall, Lucas raised an eyebrow at me, like, You need me over there?
I shook my head.
He smirked and stayed where he was.
And obviously, it occurred to me that I could hook up with this chick. She was sending me all the right vibes.
I bought her a couple of drinks, even though I wasn’t drinking, as I started to seriously consider it…
Because maybe this was just what I needed?
Sex.
Casual sex.
With someone who wasn’t Courteney Clarke.
Maybe then I’d remind myself how fucking awesome sex was—you know, when I was actually having it—and get over this fucked-up preoccupation with a girl I couldn’t have sex with.
I’d almost managed to convince myself that this night should end with this curvy brunette riding my dick—when Courteney walked in.
And my whole night ground to a halt.
Summer had just gone onstage. It was maybe eleven o’clock or something. This hot little brunette with the long legs had her hand an inch from my dick… and Courteney breezed right on into the VIP area.
And suddenly she was all I could see.
She didn’t seem to notice me. She entered through the back hallway, from backstage, like she’d been here before. Accompanied by her slutty friend… Johnny O’Reilly’s sister. Shayla.
Shayla was dressed in some skanky dress that was way too short and way too tight. And Courteney… jeans and a loose T-shirt, pretty much her trademark look. Though the T-shirt had a deep V neckline, and it dipped way too fucking low on her tits.
Jesus Christ.
Fucking seriously?
The fuck was she doing here? The last I’d checked, she was still underage. And seeing her walk into the club like she was a fucking regular or something?
Not happening.
Except that it had just happened.
I looked around the VIP area and out into the crowd. Guys all lined up around the dance floor. Fucking hovering. Watching chicks dance to Summer’s music.
Drunks.
Assholes.
Sleazebags.
That’s all I saw when I looked around a crowded nightclub, knowing Courteney was in the room.
But I wasn’t gonna pull the same shit I did on her last time I saw her in a club. Nope. Because that didn’t go down so fucking well. I’d gotten her out of the bar that night and away from all the sleazebags, sure. But then I trapped her in a car with me. And did and said a bunch of shit I still wasn’t sure if I should totally regret or what.
I mean, it did its job, in the end.
Scared her the fuck away.
Kind of.
But that night was a total fucking shit show, and neither of us needed a repeat.
So instead of dragging her out of here, I decided to watch and wait.
Maybe she’d get kicked out anyway.
The security guys in the VIP area wouldn’t give a fuck who Courteney was—or how old she was. But I could tell the bouncers she was underage, get her kicked out that way.
Fucking fail. Cary wouldn’t like that, even if he wouldn’t like her here.
What would a good best friend who didn’t think with his dick all the time do?
Yeah. Maybe just watch and wait.
Maybe she’d notice I was here, wise up and leave on her own.
I watched her, standing with Shayla at the edge of the VIP area, facing the stage. They were both drinking, and Shayla was dancing. At least this time Courteney had brought backup—if you could call it that.
I really wasn’t sure what good Shayla would be if Court actually needed help getting rid of some asshole who got over-friendly. She seemed to be slamming back the shots at a pretty fast rate—as fast as Summer’s girl posse could pass them around.
And the asshole Courteney got talking to while her friend was drinking like a fish…?
I studied the guy.
And I fucking recognized him. Really wasn’t much to remember about him, other than the fact that the only other time I’d ever seen this dude, he was talking to Courteney in a bar.
Blair. That’s what she’d said his name was when she tried to introduce me to him at the Back Door just over a month ago.
That fucking night.
That fucking guy.
He’d weaseled his way over to her in the crowd, and he was talking to her.
I just kept watching.
I watched him walk away. And good fucking riddance.
Maybe she’d told him to fuck off.
Jordan elbowed me and leaned in to talk to me. Something about an afterparty later? I tried to listen.
Then I sat back and tried to pay attention to what else was going on in the room. The music. Summer’s show.
You know, what I was here for.
She was spinning that “Jackie Chan” remix; it must’ve been the dance song of the summer or something. You couldn’t walk into a club without hearing it lately.
Courteney was dancing to it, hopping up and down with Shayla and shaking that fantastic ass of hers.
I’d been asking around about DJ Summer ever since Ash asked me to join a band with her, and word on the street was that the girl was an incredible composer; had a serious talent for weaving hit songs by other DJs in with her original music. I already knew her reputation as queen of the local party scene, and I could see why she’d earned it. Judging by the energy in the room, the bodies packing the dance floor, DJ Summer knew how to give people what they wanted.
Jordan got up to dance, with a couple of her girlfriends, though her brunette friend stayed right where she was—next to me. As I watched them go, I spotted fucking Blair again. Working his way back over to Courteney.
I watched him nudge her arm and start talking to her again.
Motherfucker.
Dude had to be like thirty-five.
This time, he had a drink in each hand. He handed one to Courteney.
And she fucking took it.
I was on my feet before she could take a sip. Brunette girl jumped as I tossed her hand off my leg. I watched, but Courteney didn’t lift the glass to her lips. She leaned in to say something to this asshole, and I was over there pretty fucking fast.
I felt Lucas on my tail like a hulking shadow.
I plucked the drink right out of her hand and put it on a table.
Fucking déjà vu.
“Hey!” she cried, startled. Then her eyes went wide when she saw the look on my face. Granted, I was pretty sure I didn’t look fucking thrilled to see her.
Really wouldn’t love any guy moving in on Courteney in a bar, but I definitely didn’t love this guy. I didn’t even bother saying a word. I just grabbed Courteney’s hand and dragged her away, as Lucas stepped in to talk to scumbag and make sure he didn’t follow us.
I’d managed to get her over to the other side of the VIP area, to the back wall—where an exit sign hung above the hallway that led backstage. A bouncer stood by the door, watching us.
When Courteney dug her heels in and swatted at my hand, I let her go. But I stood between her and the club, trapping
her against the wall.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“I’m taking you home.” I pointed at the door. “Get your ass outside.”
“I’m not leaving, Xander. I came to see Summer’s show. She invited me.”
“Yeah, well, you saw. And now it’s time to go.”
“Says who?”
“Says the guy who’s gonna drag you out of here if he has to. Get moving.”
“Are you guys okay?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Elle was standing just behind me, watching us. She’d just come out of the back hall, her bodyguard shadowing her. She looked from me to Courteney, concern on her face.
“No, I’m not okay,” Courteney snapped.
“She’s upset,” I said evenly, my eyes on Courteney’s. “Because she’s underage and I know it, and I’m taking her home.”
Courteney looked to Elle, obviously hoping to get bailed out of this.
I glanced back at her. And great news; we were drawing a crowd. A couple of bouncers from the VIP area were now hovering, and people were looking over.
Elle looked us both over, and gave Courteney a small smile. “Sorry, sweetie. Maybe you should go home?”
I gave Courteney a look, like, The fuck are you waiting for?
“I hate you,” she practically spat at me. Then she turned on her heel. The bouncer opened the door for her and she stomped away down the back hall.
You know, like the teenager she was.
“You okay?” Elle asked gently. There was sympathy written on her face now… for me.
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.” She hesitated. “You know I’m gonna call her, and make sure she’s okay, too. She’s my little sister’s best friend.”
“Yeah. That’d be good,” I said. “Appreciate it.” Like I was grateful she’d check in on her.
I looked for Lucas; he was standing just off to the side. “I’m out,” I told him. He nodded, and I took off after Courteney, down the back hall. She was already out of sight, but I followed the exit signs—pissed right the fuck off.
Because now what? She had Elle wondering if I was some kind of creep?
I mean, if Elle really thought that, she wouldn’t have let me leave with Courteney. Not like she could stop me—but her bodyguard could. His name was Flynn, and though I’d spent several months on the road with him this winter, I’d never seen the guy smile. He was ex-military or something, and he wasn’t as big as me—but he definitely looked like he could rip out my throat or something before Lucas could blink.
Courteney was outside in the alley, waiting for me, her arms crossed over her chest. She made a pissy noise as I approached.
“You not learn anything the last time I dragged your ass out of a bar?” I walked right past her, headed for my car.
“What time?” she hissed, hurrying to keep up with me. “Refresh my memory. Oh, you mean the time you offered to stick your dick in my mouth like such a gentleman?”
I stopped dead. I turned to her and stared her down as she stopped a few feet for me.
“At least I offered first.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, you really want to get raped or something? That your mission in life?”
Her jaw dropped right open. “I was hanging out at a club! With friends! Since when does that equal me wanting to get raped?”
I took a step toward her. “Friends, huh? What was in that drink that guy gave you?”
“Nothing.”
“How do you know?”
She said nothing.
“What exactly was in that glass?” I pressed.
“I don’t know!”
“You don’t know. Then why the fuck were you gonna drink it?”
“Maybe I wasn’t going to!”
Right.
“If you don’t know how to keep yourself safe from slimebags like that, you’ve got no business being in there.” Jesus, didn’t I already lay this all out for her? “For all you know, I just saved your life.” I turned and started walking again, pulling out my phone.
“More like ruined my night!” she shouted after me. “Again!”
I stopped and turned back. I walked back over to her. “Better to ruin your night,” I growled, “than stand by while you get ass-raped by some fucking creep.”
Her jaw dropped again. Then she sputtered through a whole fucking array of non-words as she struggled for some kind of comeback to that. Clearly, she’d been drinking before she hit the bar, because her eyes looked glassy and her tongue wasn’t so sharp tonight.
Finally, she spat out, “He’s a friend of Summer’s!” But her chin was quivering.
“Then Summer should get some better friends, because that dude is a fucking pedophile or something.”
Aaand she burst into tears.
Great. Fucking smooth.
Way to get into an argument with a drunk eighteen-year-old about ass rape.
“I don’t need saving, Xander.” She sniffled. “You don’t need to keep saving me.”
“No? Should I just leave that to Cary? You think he’s gonna come and drag you out of here?”
She shook her head at me. “You’re such an asshole.”
“I know it. At least I’m not pretending not to know what the fuck I am.” I looked her over in her low-cut top. “Do you even have the first clue? Are you seriously that fucking clueless?”
“Just… take me home, okay?”
Yeah, I’d broken her down.
Wasn’t all that proud of it, but fuck, the girl drove me up the wall. Couldn’t just leave the club with me without causing a major fucking scene and getting us in another dumbass argument.
I started walking again, texting Jordan as I went, letting her know I was leaving. Then I texted Lucas to tell him to make sure Jordan got home okay.
Courteney followed in silence. In a truly fucking rare feat, she went stone cold silent on me. Not one more word out of her mouth, as we walked to my car… as I drove her home.
When I’d parked in Cary’s driveway, she got out and ran for the front door. I followed her, waiting while she fumbled with her keys and the alarm panel. And I wondered how much she’d had to drink before I cut her off. And how she was planning to get home after the club, if I hadn’t intervened.
And it pissed me off even more.
I followed her upstairs, where she slammed her bedroom door in my face, or tried to. I stopped it with my foot.
She whirled around and fucking growled at me.
“Leave me alone!” she pretty much screamed.
Good thing her brother was in a soundproofed suite.
“Sure thing,” I told her, from the doorway. “You staying in the rest of the night, or do I have to barricade the damn door?”
“I don’t know why you keep treating me like I’m the fuck-up of the century or something!”
“Is that what you think this is?”
“You think I’m a stupid slut.”
“I do not think that.”
“I know what I am. And I know what you are.”
“For fuck’s sake. Go to bed.” I shut the door and got the hell out of there.
I went back out to my car and I fucking drove. Because I just couldn’t be around her. My blood was fucking broiling, and my dick seemed to think this was all a bunch of twisted foreplay for some hot-ass main event—that was never fucking happening.
I couldn’t stand watching her in that bar. And not because she was underage and I was trying to play hero.
Because I couldn’t stomach the thought of her going home with some other guy, even if she wanted to.
I wanted her safe at home. Right where she was.
But it was way too dangerous to stand there at her bedroom door, with her in that low-cut shirt… looking all teary and sorry and… sad.
I’d never been able to handle it when Courteney Clarke was fucking sad.
Chapter Ten
Courteney
Do you even have the fi
rst clue?
Are you seriously that fucking clueless?
Jesus, he thought I was so fucking stupid.
Maybe he had a reason.
I lay on my bed with the sheet tangled around my legs. I couldn’t get comfortable. I’d changed into pajama shorts and a tank top for sleep, but I couldn’t sleep. My face was streaked with dried tears, but I was so tired of crying. I’d stopped a while ago and now just lay here, unable to relax or do much of anything but feel numb and regretful.
I was still pretty boozy, too.
I could still hear Xander’s angry, growly voice in my head, and my ears were ringing from the club, “Jackie Chan” throbbing in my skull on endless repeat. That was the song that was playing while people were dancing, the whole club was pumping with sexy Saturday night energy—and Xander was bouncing me out.
You staying in the rest of the night, or do I have to barricade the damn door?
He was still out, of course. At least I was pretty sure he was. Because the rules were totally different for him.
He could be in the middle of some orgy right now, snorting lines off some stripper’s ass, and that would be just fine and dandy, wouldn’t it? Since he was a man and a grownup and all.
As long as I was home in bed by myself.
I finally got up, pulled on a hoodie and started roaming around the house, looking for Freddy. He always gave good cuddles, and I needed some.
I found him out in the front yard, skulking around the bushes on a midnight hunt. Too bad for him, the little bell tinkling on his collar gave him away. He wasn’t much of a predator these days. Cary got tired of him dragging half-eaten birds into the studio through his little swinging cat door off the backyard, and ever since, he’d been belled.
“C’mere you.” I scooped him up as he came over to rub figure eights around my ankles. Which meant he was hungry.
I checked, but Xander’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so for sure he was still out.
I snagged a packet of Freddy’s organic kitty treats from the pantry on my way back through the house, and took him out by the pool with my laptop. I lounged out on a chair, putting my feet up, computer on my lap. Freddy curled up beside me, purring like a furry little motor as I fed him treats.
Filthy Beautiful: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #2) Page 14