Page 141 of Sweet Temptation

“She been up there the whole time?” I could see her in the treehouse, talking to the DJ.

“Yup. I think she’s about to take over.”

“What?” I leaned in to hear him better.

“She’s gonna play a few songs, I think.”

I watched, and she did seem to be taking over. Both her and the other DJ were standing at the deck, but then he stepped back and she was there alone.

“I’ll take a walk around?” Andre offered.

“Yeah. Stay away from the love bombs.”

He gave me a questioning look, and I sipped my beer. I wasn’t really drinking it, but a couple of sips wouldn’t hurt.

Andre headed into the house. He’d probably find the bathroom, dump his beer down the sink, get a fresh one, and scope things out.

That’s what I’d do.

I watched the crowd in the backyard. There were a lot of people dancing now.

And I watched Summer.

Fuck, the woman was hot. I could see her up there in her black mesh shirt. She’d ditched her jacket and her hot-pink bra was showing through. She was lost in her music, dancing as she played.

So. Sexy.

I got kinda lost in the vibe of it, her energy pouring over the crowd, over me… even as my eyes continually swept the crowd, and the tree line, and the dark between the trees.

Nothing looked off, but it didn’t quite feel right, either.

I scoped out a few of the guys who’d been doing lines with Justice inside a while ago, but they were just partying. Talking. Some of them were in the crowd, dancing.

I didn’t see Justice anywhere.

Mia was over by the love bomb table with her girlfriends.

After a while, Andre came up beside me. “All good?” he said.

“Yeah. You?”

He nodded over my shoulder. “Take a little walk back through the kitchen. Check out the dude with the tats.”

I nodded. I stood with him for another minute or so, watching the crowd, just pretending to enjoy the music. I was enjoying it.

But then I headed left, down the steps and back around the house, in through the front door. I found the bathroom and poured my beer down the sink, left my bottle with a few others on a shelf. I made my way through the crowded living room and into the kitchen. Grabbed myself a fresh beer from one of the metal tubs of ice.

I paused to pop the top off and check out the dude with the tats.

There was only one guy in the room who obviously fit that description.

The coke fairy.

He’d taken off the leather jacket he’d arrived in and his long sleeves were pushed up, showing off his ink. He was standing by the kitchen counter with three other guys. One of them was Justice.

They were talking animatedly about something, laughing. And when Justice caught my eye, I tipped my beer bottle at him. He waved me over.

The dude with the tattoos looked at me. He was a few inches shorter than me and had a wiry build, and dark, almost dirty-looking tanned skin. He wore a holey sweater and jeans, the telltale biker boots, and among the tattoos on his arms, there was a distinctive tattoo of big, bold letters up his right forearm that said: BASTARDS.

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