Page 76 of Illicit Illustration

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, inspecting the tag hanging from the lanyard with the number 7 printed on both sides in a blocky font. “You’re lucky I got here at all. The temperature dropped, and thepass was like a fucking ice-skating rink. I had to walk my bike along the shoulder through part of it, so I didn’t go slipping off the edge of a fucking mountain.”

“Well, she’s waiting in there to break up with you—”

“What?” Disappointment flowed through me, and I squeezed the paper in my fist, but stopped when Charley kicked me in the shin.

“Don’t ruin that. And don’t fucking interrupt me. Hazel confessed everything to me this morning and told me she needed to come tonight to let Seven down easy.”

I didn’t want to let hope set in prematurely, but I sighed, relieved that she’d chosen me. Not that Seven wasn’t me too, but if she wanted to let him down easy, that meant that Hazel had been thinking about what I said to her last night about moving forward instead of letting the last two weeks ruin our friendship.

“Well, I wouldn’t get my hopes up, because Ten has been in there flirting with her since the minute he walked in the door. And despite her watching the door like a hawk, clearly waiting for you, she’s also had to deal with half the girls in the bar gossiping about the mysterious Seven, who they all gave their phone numbers to but never got a text from.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, dumbass, fuck. Why would you flirt with all of them if you wanted Hazel?”

“I didn’t, I swear. I was bored as fuck half the time and didn’t even hesitate to throw every number but Hazel’s away the second you handed them to me.”

“Well, don’t tell them that because I am not protecting if you do. Thankfully, there seemed to be some people who matched up despite falling for your dismissive bullshit and deep voice, so I’d appreciate it if you could not cause a scene.”

“I won’t.” But as I shifted to the side, pushing my visor down so no one could tell who I was, I saw Hazel throw her head back with laughter as that dipshit baseball player ran his hand down the outside of her arm. When her hand touched the back of his, herhead tilting to the side as she looked up at him, I wasn’t so sure I could keep my promise.

Hazel

Despite feeling absolutely nospark with him, I had to give Christian—who’d, much to my surprise, ended up being number Ten—some credit; he kept me laughing instead of crying as the clock neared six and Mr. Seven still hadn’t shown his face. Maybe hehadbeen trying to tell me something when he said to follow my heart and just hadn’t wanted to hurt my feelings.

Although, apparently, I was the only one of the women who Seven had texted. Several of the others had also given him their phone number, but never heard from him. Now there was a bet over whether he’d show up. And if he did, who he’d show up for. But I guessed that would make it easier to tell him I couldn’t go on that date with him since he’d have his pick of women who’d be waiting to console him. Not that I expected him to be that devastated.

Not wanting to risk an uproar, I just quietly backed out of that discussion without a word. That was when Christian had cornered me.

Glancing at the clock again, I sighed, wishing I could just go home and curl up into a ball. Or muster the courage to sneak across the parking lot and try to talk to Reid. He had also been missing all evening. I would have expected him to be around to help with the freezer fiasco, but he had been at the distillery all day yesterday since Jayden was out of town, so maybe they needed him again.

Not that I’d know because he also wasn’t talking to me. Or I was overthinking things again, and he was giving me space to figureout what I was going to do about tonight, but my text messages had been disappointingly empty today.

“I’m sorry again that I didn’t just come out and say something before. I was afraid that maybe I’d saved your number wrong in my phone, and I was messaging some other random person.”

“It’s fine. I probably should have figured it out when you kept hinting you’d see me soon.”

He leaned in close, glancing around before he whispered in my ear. “Did you give your number to anyone else? None of these guys have come to talk to you, so I was just curious if I had any competition.”

“Um…” I fidgeted with the numbered lanyard Charley had roped around me as soon as I got back downstairs after changing into the red off the shoulder dress we’d picked out the other day.

A distorted deep voice saved me from having to answer, instead my eyes widened as a palm skimmed my side and a warm body stepped close behind me, his chest brushing against the bare skin between my shoulder blades. “Yes, she did.”

“Hey, man.” Christian chuckled, extending his hand toward my side. “Decided to keep them thirsty by making an extremely fashionably late entrance?”

“Not exactly,” his muted voice answered. Seven’s arm brushed mine as he reached around me to shake Christian’s hand, my body reacting to his proximity. Fuck. That wasn’t good. I’d come here to let him know about Reid, not become even more confused about which one to choose. “I only came here for one reason.”

“You know you can take that off, right?” Christian nodded, and I turned, bracing myself and expecting to come face to face with the man who’d charmed me through a wall, but I didn’t expect him to be wearing his motorcycle helmet into the bar. I guess that explained why his voice sounded strange.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Actually, can I steal this one from you for a few minutes?”

“Not mine to steal, apparently, but if you screw this up, I’d be more than happy to,” Christian commented, aiming a flirty smile at me before he took a few steps backward.

I frowned, studying the details on the helmet out of the corner of my eye as Seven towered over me. The glossy black finish had a decal on the side I couldn’t make out, but it looked familiar.

As Christian turned to approach a group of women who’d been standing off to the side, talking amongst themselves, I tried to calm my thoughts so I didn’t start word vomiting all over the poor guy once he got me alone.

“Can we talk?” he asked, holding out one of his hands, still covered by a leather glove. I was pretty sure under any other circumstances, a tall, dark and mysterious man in a motorcycle helmet asking me to go with him would have been fantasy inspiring. My fingers itched with the need to draw how he looked right now, but I needed to concentrate.

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