Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC 4)

“You’re so determined that he come, that you can’t even think of a reason that he wouldn’t.” She shrugged. “I just like how you believe everything with all your heart.”

I scowled. “You think he won’t come?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I hope for his sake, and yours, that he does.”

We didn’t leave for another two and a half hours. By the time we showed up at the club, it was after ten, and I was enthralled with all the lights everywhere.

“This place is swanky,” I murmured, taking it all in.

“It is,” she agreed as she caught my hand. “Do you want to see if we can get into VIP?”

Not really.

“Sure,” is what came out of my mouth instead.

She led me by the hand through the club, heading to a roped-off section that was being guarded by a large dude that sure knew how to fill out a pair of cowboy pants.

“Ladies,” he drawled. “Names?”

“Oh, we’re not on your list,” Ethel said. “But the owner said that all I had to do was give my name, which is Ethel, and they’d…”

No sooner had she said her name than the velvet rope he’d been standing in front of was opened for our entrance.

Ethel stood there, transfixed, as she stared at the opening as if she wasn’t sure how it occurred.

“Go, dear,” I teased as I gave her a little push.

Seems like the crush on the neighbor definitely wasn’t one-sided.

“What is neighbor dude’s name?” I asked curiously.

“His name is…” She hesitated. “Keir.”

The way she said ‘Keir’ had me glancing up and looking around because it was almost as if it was a greeting, not an explanation of his name.

I found a dark, dangerous-looking guy staring at the two of us.

Those eyes glanced at me, giving me a quick once-over.

But no sooner had he done the looking did he glance away and stare at my roommate.

“Ethel,” he breathed, all dark and dangerous like. “What are you doing here?”

“My friend had a bad day,” she said, jerking her thumb in my direction. “We came to unwind.”

I didn’t have a bad day.

In fact, surprisingly, it was okay.

I’d yet to get ahold of my father, nor had I seen my ex-boss again, but overall, I’d had a pretty decent day that could’ve gone a whole lot worse than it had.

“Alcohol is on me, then,” Keir drawled, his accent thicker.

Where was he from?

He sounded like he had a Southern accent to an extent, but there was definitely an underlying hint of something more. Maybe a second language?

“Yeah, that’s not necessary.” Ethel smiled. “We’re not going to take advantage of you like that.”

In the next breath, Ethel had my hand and she was leading me away from Keir, who didn’t object or argue with her decision.

Me, on the other hand?

“Ethel,” I snapped quietly. “Have you had alcoholic drinks lately from a club? Or even a bar? They’re expensive. What on earth were you thinking?”

She snorted with amusement as she said, “I’m not going to be like every other girl in his life and take advantage of his kindness. You don’t even require that much to drink to get lit. And since I’m staying sober, that’s all a moot point.”

Well, she did have a point.

I was a proverbial and literal lightweight.

I could get drunk off of half of a margarita.

And always could.

I’d found that out the hard way when I’d gone out with a college roommate and decided to try out a Texas-sized margarita and found out that I wasn’t cut out for it.

I’d woken up the next day with a note taped to my forehead with duct tape, from someone that was mean to me this morning that I was trying not to think about, telling me that I needed to control my alcohol consumption.

From that day forward, I’d made a promise to myself that I would never drink without first trusting the person that I was with not to tell on me to Daddy Tide.

I didn’t have that confidence with Ethel.

I knew without a doubt that she would call Tide and throw me under the bus.

Which was exactly what I was planning.

• • •

I was drunk.

Not only was I drunk, but I was drunk and wobbling on my flat-soled shoes.

I was also seeing things that weren’t there, and I felt rather high as if I’d eaten something that’d put me into a happy place and left me there.

“Are you okay, miss?”

The sound of a voice that wasn’t Tide’s seriously depressed me.

It’d been hours.

Four of them.

And I was so beyond tired and ready to go home and fall into bed, in Tide’s arms, that I was contemplating calling him and telling him exactly what I thought of him not showing up.

“Fine,” I answered, sounding a whole lot more confident in my answer than I felt.

He would come.

I knew it.

I just hoped that he would come soon, because I was seriously uncomfortable in my black dress, and I wanted it off in the worst way.