Page 26 of Lillian

“While we’ve been given the all-clear, I still want to mention there are condoms in the bag you will be given once your key number is called. Using them or not is on you. Next, you all signed a waiver and an NDA to attend tonight; so as the old saying goes, what happens here stays here.

Lastly, in the same bag with the contraceptives, there will be some fun little toys you’re welcome to keep and a list of your partner’s hard and soft limits.”

I feel Lincoln’s eyes on me at this, and the heat that crawls up my neck has very little to do with the anger I’m trying to hold on to.

“These limits are to be respected at all costs. Security is posted around the inside of the club, so if there are any issues, please reach out, and it will be handled immediately.”

It’s my turn to look at Lincoln, and I startle a little to see he never stopped staring at me. Heat banks in the beautiful hazel eyes I don’t want to admit that I have missed.

“Okay, so without further ado, let’s get me off the stage and see who’s playing with whom tonight, shall we? Men who are picking keys please line up, and when I call your name please step onto the stage, you’ll draw a keycard, and I will announce the name and number of who you drew. The rest is all up to you guys. Have fun and be safe!”

Lincoln’s lips tilt in a sexy, sure grin before he walks away, and I can’t peel my eyes off him until he hits the stage.

There are five guys ahead of him. One by one, they step up onto the stage where they draw a key from the bag a woman is holding. There are a few looks of disappointment, some excitement, some without any facial expression at all.

My heart starts to beat even faster as it’s Lincoln’s turn. Emotions swirl inside me, and I can’t tell which one is winning out. The trickle of fear and jealousy that he’s likely going to pick some other girl's name. Then the anxiety of wondering whether he’ll actually sleep with her tonight. Or the—I’ll never admit it out loud—excitement that my name could be drawn, and it’s me and him in a room alone together again. But even stronger than all of those is the inevitable burning humiliation at how it will feel being alone with him when the last time that happened, he was calling me an embarrassment.

It feels like the entire room gets quiet when Lincoln takes the two steps up the stage.

The clinking of ice against glasses ceases as he reaches the bag.

Whispers fade away as his hand disappears inside.

A low buzzing rings in my ear as he pulls out a gold skeleton key.

I hold in a breath, and my body leans forward slightly on instinct.

The emcee grabs the key from Lincoln, looks at it, and I loose my breath as he calls out my number.

“Number four,”the emcee says, looks at a piece of paper, then makes my fucking year, “Lillian Frasier.”

I can’t help the smug fucking smirk that stretches across my face. Every part of me was fully prepared to bribe whoever chose Lillian's name to switch with me before we went back to our rooms. Even with the five hundred thousand dollar buy-in, I would have dropped the same amount to make sure she didn’t go into a room with some other man. Or woman. Only me.

Especially not that psycho Vincenzo Bramante. Obviously, she wasn’t actually interested in him. Intrinsically, I know that. She saw me staring at her and wanted to make me jealous.

I’m more annoyed at myself that it worked than at her that she did it.

Someone hands me a bag, but I don’t bother looking in it; rather, I stare right at Lillian as I walk off the stage and over to her.

She looks incredible tonight in a slinky black dress that I’ve seen more than one man eyeing her in. It’s a look I haven’t seenon her before. Sexy and sophisticated, for sure. But much too formal and stuffy for her. She always looked her most beautiful in a messy bun with nothing but my oversized T-shirt hanging off her slim frame and walking barefoot around my house.

Nostalgia floods me, but it doesn’t manage to overwhelm the regret that comes with it as I stop a hairsbreadth from the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

My fingers itch to run through her blonde hair, but I don’t want to break the spell she seems to be in. Not an angry, resentful one like I’m expecting. But an almost anticipatory, lustful one. I’m scared to blink wrong and throw her out of this daze. I want to soak up as much of this look as I can. So tomorrow, when she goes back to hating me, I’ll be able to remember how it felt.

The light blue of her eyes entrances me. So much that I tune out the rest of the names being called in the background as everyone else is paired with a partner for the evening.

With at least half the room left to go, there should be plenty of time before?—

“Sorry,” a woman’s voice squeaks out as she bumps into Lillian, breaking her gaze from mine.

Son of a bitch.

“It’s fine,” Lillian says with a sweet smile for the woman. When she turns back to me, the smile drops, and the lustful look is gone, replaced by the one I expected.

Distrust. Anger.

But the one that kills me the most… Pain.

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