Tempting Perfection

Another shot glass was placed in front of me, breaking the tension. Harlem held up his. “A toast to Sawyer. She’s got balls of brass and lots of sass.”

“Hear, hear.”

The alcohol burned going down. “Aww…you make me feel all official and the like.”

Another shot was pushed in front of me. I held it up. “Dicks before chicks.”

Four shots and I would be feeling it. No more. In fact, I needed some water.

The men all took a swig, but Edge sputtered. “Wait. What the fuck kind of toast is that? Are you trying to curse us?”

I laughed and stood. “I’ll be back. Save my seat.”

As I approached the bartender, my head swirled a little more. “Water, please. And where’s the restroom?”

“Right around the corner. You have private facilities up here.”

“Thanks.” I downed the glass, hoping it would help sort through the alcohol sooner rather than later.

The restroom was easy enough to find. When I walked out, Kurt was standing there, staring at me. Déjà vu. I swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He prowled toward me, and I backed against the wall. We were within inches of each other, and I could smell him. Arching ever so slightly, I let my chest brush against his. Kurt grabbed my hips with both hands and pushed me against the wall. His hardened length pushed against my abdomen. “You drive me fucking insane.”

I licked my lips. Some of the fog had cleared. “Is this going to be like last time?”

The lust cleared from Kurt’s eyes, and he took a few steps back. Shit. Now he would pull back. But in all truth, if it turned out like last time, my heart wouldn’t make it. I waved my hand. “Alcohol and us always leads to not thinking clearly. At least we stopped the runaway train.”

“Yeah.”

That was it. Yeah. Irritation bubbled to the surface. I took a step to the side and walked back out to the VIP area to reclaim my seat. When I turned, Kurt was sitting beside me. Something was going on inside him—he worked his jaw and kept looking at me, about to speak but then taking a drink of water.

The bouncer who stood at the top of the stairs approached us. “Ms. Wade, there’s a Jordan Stiles here to see you. Should I let him in?”

Wait. Jordan is here. What the actual fuck? I turned to Kurt. “Did you know about this? Is Cameron here?”

His voice was flat. “No. I knew nothing about it.”

I turned back to the bouncer. What in the world do I do? “Umm…yeah…sure.”

A few seconds later, Jordan walked in, nicely dressed in slacks and an expensive button-up shirt.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I had no idea you were in town.”

“On a business trip and saw you were touring here. Figured I’d swing by and take you up on that dance you promised me New Year’s Eve.”

“I…uh…”

I turned to Kurt, who watched us with a blank face. Then he stood and said, “I’m going to get a drink. Good to see you again, Jordan.”

“You, too, man.”

I stared at Kurt’s retreating figure as he moseyed up to the bar. I swore I saw tension in his shoulders. What’s his deal? He’d just left me hanging outside the restroom. Inside, I was a confused mess.

Jordan took Kurt’s seat, and I shifted a little farther away. “Is Cameron here with you?”

“No. I just wanted to see you. Listen, can we talk?”

“Talk?”