Page 11 of I Blame the Club

Wes groans, “That’s the whole point of having a lookout. To look out for guards.”

“Hey, did I or did I not bail you out?”

Headlights flash our way as Trip pulls into an empty spot.

“You did, but not before the guard saw my junk.”

I smirk, watching Wes visibly melt as his girlfriend climbs out of the car.

And that, my friends, is the definition of being pussy whipped.

“If that’s all the guard saw, he didn’t have much to remember you by.”

Wes flips me off as he walks over and scoops Trip up off the ground. She laughs when he swings her around, her converse nearly giving me a concussion before we even get inside. The display of affection tugs my heartstrings, but it’s more about my friend finding his person than me wishing I had my own.

Let’s be honest: women don’t align with my particular tastes and the thought of dating a man makes me want to poke my eyes out. I live for thrills and terrible decisions. First dates and weekend cuddles do not fall into either category.

“Enough being cute. It's time to find me a man.”

Trip turns to me with a smile, “Good to see you, Nico. What’s the criteria for tonight?”

I give Wes a pointed look, “Did you hear the lack of judgement in her tone? That’s what being supportive looks like.”

He laughs, burying his face in Trip’s golden-brown curls, “She doesn’t have to put up with your moaning all day. Did I mention Nico’s got a thing for our assistant coach?”

I shoot Wes a glare but he’s too busy sniffing his girlfriend’s hair to notice.

“Mo?” At my nod, Trip throws her head back and laughs, “Stella is going to die when she hears this.”

I groan, “Don’t tell Stella. The worst thing a man can do is admit their attracted to someone’s older brother.”

“You know I can’t keep anything from my roommate.”

Trip is still laughing when we approach the bouncer at the front of the ridiculously long line. Snips of lyrics drift out the open door.

“But I’ll do my best to keep quiet. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Mo fits your type.”

My body starts to sway to the beat pulsing through the sidewalk. One of the many things I love aboutLifestyleis the Latin playlist they always have on hand.

“Why does everyone think I’m into douchebags? Just because I like tall men doesn’t mean I like them mean.”

Trip bites her lip, “I wouldn’t say you like douchebags, Nico. You just tend to go for confident men with big egos.”

“Which is a nice way of saying you like douchebags.” Wes cheerfully interjects just as we reach the big, burly bouncer.

I smile at him, the neck tattoos and face piercings adding to the intimidation factor.

“Raphael, babe, it’s been too long.”

A pierced eyebrow lifts as the man who may or may not be part of a motorcycle gang rakes his gaze down my body. The red silk shirt I’m wearing tonight is one of my favourites and I made sure to leave the top three buttons undone to show off my tan, and dare I say it, hairless chest.

Raphael’s eyes gleam as he brings them back up to mine, and I already know what he’s going to say before he says it.

“Depends on your definition of long.”

This is why I love hookups. You get the chase, the challenge, and the satisfaction all in one night. The after-effects aren’t always pretty, but that’s why I normally go for guys with the same morals as me.

That is to say, none.

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