Page 58 of I Blame the Club

The exit door bangs open as I stumble my way through, hastily gulping down a breath of fresh air. Leaning against the brick exterior of the building, I close my eyes as my stomach starts to churn, the queasiness identical to what I experienced earlier today on the bus.

Fucking Nico Montez.

Taking one last deep breath, I push off the wall and start walking in the direction of my hotel, counting with every step all the things I hate about Taber’s lacrosse goalie.

Nico

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Mo gives me a full-blown scowl, a deep crease forming between his brows. Lifting my head from its resting place, I give him a regal wave.

“Just passing through.”

His scowl doesn’t waver, “And you thought the floor in front of my hotel room was the best place to stop for a rest?”

“It’s more comfortable than it looks.” I grin, patting the disgusting carpet beneath my ass, “Feel free to join me.”

“I’ll pass.” Mo steps over me and swipes his key card, “Go back to your room, Montez. I don’t want you here.”

Most people would be insulted by the clear dismissal, but it only adds to my incentive. Jumping to my feet, I throw myself in front of his door.

“You do want me here.”

“No, I really don’t.” He reaches around me and pushes the door open, “Move.”

“If you say so.” Grinning, I walk backward into his room. He glares at me from the doorway.

“I’m only going to say this once. Get out of my room, Montez.”

I cross my arms, “Not until you explain to me what happened tonight. Where did you run off to?”

He shrugs, “There’s nothing to explain. I danced. I got tired. I left.”

I raise a brow, “Without your dance partner?”

Mo steps inside and lets the door swing shut behind him. His muscular frame is washed in shadow, the sight raising goosebumps along my flesh.

“I lost interest.”

He stalks closer, the movements calm and calculated like a predator on the hunt. He stops inches from me, those pale blue eyes piercing mine.

“Doesn’t look like your dance partner passed the test either.”

My eyes dance over Mo’s flawless face, his impeccable features tainted only by a weariness that never seems to go away.

“She was never a contender.” I smile, lifting a hand to smooth out the crease between his brows, “But you knew that.”

“Why were you dancing with her in the first place?”

There’s an angry undertone to his voice but I ignore it, focusing instead on erasing the frown marking his skin.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t like it.” A grin splits my lips, “And your alpha side needed to come out so you could finally claim what’s yours.”

Mo tilts his head, “And what’s that?”

“Me.” I swallow, tracing the hard lines all the way down to his lips, “You needed to claim me.”

My fingers press against his lips and he smiles, a genuine smile that reaches those devastating eyes.

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