Page 53 of Hate Me

What the fuck was happening? “Hang?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, why not?”

“And what does that entail in your mind?” In his twisted mind.

“Watch a movie, binge some TV show, talk? One of your sitcoms, maybe? If you’re not up for that, we could play poker, although you might be out of pocket by the end, you know how good my bluff game is.”

“That sounds rather tame for you.”

“It’s been a long day. Figured you’ve also got enough pressure right now, so if I can keep things low-key for you at least for a while, I will.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “We have a deal.”

He grinned, then slapped his hand down on the bar top and two of the bartenders spun toward him right away. “Give my boy, here, whatever he wants. On the house.” They gave their confirmations, then Damien turned back to me. “Relax a little for the next couple of hours until I’m done here.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the crowds, heading back to his office.

Another glass of scotch brushed my fingers and I turned from tracking him to see one of the bartenders had pushed it into my hand.

I hesitated for a moment.

Fuck it.

I brought it to my lips then gulped it down.

Maybe just one more to properly take the edge off of being back here and all the complications that came along with it.

So, I might’ve ended up having more than just a couple of drinks.

“You still with me there, Cal?”

I blinked against my blurry vision and the lightheadedness making my head swim to see Damien manspreading across half of the couch just a foot from me, his arm slung over the bright-red pleather as he looked between me and his massive flatscreen fronting one hell of an entertainment unit. I heard the laugh track of Will & Grace sounding through the living room of his penthouse. At least I thought that was what we were still watching. I’d spaced out for a bit, I just wasn’t sure for how long.

I sank back against the couch. “Yeah. Still here.” I heard myself slurring the words. It had been that last tequila that Damien had given me when we’d arrived back here an hour or so ago. He’d driven me in his Ferrari because I’d been in no state to get behind the wheel myself. The tequila had been to calm me down after I’d gotten pissed that he’d slid his hand up my thigh during the drive.

Normally, I would’ve responded aggressively, but I’d been too fucking tired to muster the wherewithal to do much in that respect. So I’d just put it down to a slip from him, then gone ahead with our deal to hang here at his place.

We’d played cards for a bit and he’d taken me for two hundred bucks before I’d ended up earning it all back. Then we’d started watching a couple of sitcoms.

Through it all, he’d been talking non-stop about his excitement concerning opening his club, telling me some of the other things he’d been up to, things he was looking forward to doing.

Just nothing about him being an asset for Caspian.

Not yet, anyway.

“You want another drink?” he asked, sitting forward and sliding his still full glass along the coffee table to the end closest to me.

“Nah, I’m done.”

“Yeah, I think you really are.” He rose to his feet. “Let’s get you settled for the night.”

The next thing I knew, his arms were around me.

Instinctively, I went to pull away, but it had me wavering and almost crashing onto the thick shag rug. He caught me and tightened his hold. “Just relax. No need to fight, babe.”

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