Page 30 of Lost the Handle

Emery

“Brooks! Over here!”

Whiskey Row is pulsing with energy, but I’m glad I can hear Flynn Anderson over the music. Not that it’s as loud up here on the rooftop of the VIP. Apparently Flynn buys himself a VIP spot every month to “scope out the bachelorettes.” He’s following very closely in the steps of his daddy’s single days. I plaster on a huge grin and pull at my skirt that is not covering my ass even in the slightest before I head to where everyone is sitting.

And when I say everyone, I mean the whole fucking clan of the Allen sisters, all of whom are married to retired hockey players. Flynn sits by Dimitri Titov and his girl, Austen McDavid. Beside her is Flynn’s brother, Sawyer. Beside him is Dimitri’s little sister, Katarina, who is laughing at something Journey Titov is showing her on his phone. It’s apparently a cousin party, and I’m the outsider unless my plan works out.

Flynn intercepts me before I can reach the table and takes me by the shoulders to look me over. He is a stunning dude, real tall, trim, and strong. He has blondish-brown hair and a very boyish face still. His blue eyes shine as he wraps me in hisarms, hugging me tightly. He’s a very strong hugger. He basically knocks the air out of you, and you have to hold on for dear life before he shakes you to death. I laugh as he does exactly what I prepared for before he leans back and looks me over again. His eyes darken, a little bit of attraction swirling in his blue depths.

Too bad he does absolutely nothing for me.

With a wide, happy grin, he says, “I have to say, you look better in Nashville.”

I snort at that. “You just like how short my skirt is.”

His eyes turn greedy. He chucks my chin. “Fucking right. You got ass for days, Emery.”

“Behave,” I say, but it feels wrong to say that word to him.

It’s only for Quinn to say to me.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you have your sights set on someone else.”

I meet his gaze. “Did he say he’ll come?”

He flashes me a sheepish grin. “Maybe. He said he had to see how dinner went with his fiancée’s family.”

The way he says fiancée has my teeth clenching. It pisses me off even more because I didn’t know Quinn was going out with her tonight. Especially when his ass has my car. Not that I want to drive it on Broadway in Nashville. God, the horror of the amount of attention I’d get.

I only nod as I make my rounds, hugging everyone and kissing Katarina’s and Austen’s cheeks. I don’t know Austen well, but she seems awesome. Very quiet, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see she’s completely in love with Dimitri.

I wonder if she knows I tried to sleep with him.

Shit, I may not always make the best choices.

Dimitri leans over, smacking my bare thigh. I flash him a look, but it’s obvious he’s a bit drunk. “How in the hell did this happen? Last time I remember, Quinn was ready to kick my ass for you.”

Everyone around us chuckles. “Quinn has been chasing you around for years,” Journey supplies, and I love how hazel his eyes are. You never know if you’ll get flecks of green, brown, or blue, but they always have such a glint in them. Almost as if they hold a secret that is all his. I lean into him, and he hugs me tight. We’ve gotten closer since his sister, Ally, married my brother Asher. Journey even stayed a year with me in California. “I mean, just tell him to break it off, and I’m sure he will.”

I shake my head as I pour a Solo cup from the pitcher of Southern margaritas in the middle of the table. “I haven’t gotten to that point, but he’s pretty set on marrying her.”

“So, make him jealous. Sleep with me,” Flynn throws my way, and I roll my eyes as everyone snickers and chortles around us. “I am a fine male specimen with a huge cock. I can ruin you and make you forget him in one night.”

I can’t help but laugh.And Quinn does that with one look.I don’t say that, but it’s true. One look and I don’t want anyone but Quinn. “I’ve played enough games.”

“I mean, if you need to make him jealous with someone, I volunteer,” Sawyer calls out, and I roll my eyes.

Flynn holds up his hand. “Fuck, we can double-team her.”

They smack hands, and both giggle like idiots while I continue to shake my head. I asked for this. I contacted Flynn, not the other way around.

“You guys are perverts,” Katarina accuses before she rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why Quinn’s so set,” she says, her voice still thick with an accent from where she grew up in Russia. “From what I hear, she’s a hell of a bitch.” Katarina is what I imagine a Russian princess to look like. All legs, slim, with dark brown hair to her waist. She is so stylish, and I feel inferior to her.

But then I remember who the fuck I am.

And I may be a bit chunky, but I could hack all her money in seconds with her none the wiser until she goes to run her card for a new purse.

Not that I would.

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