Page 5 of Catch You

“It’s okay, you go. I’ll order some more drinks.”

“He’s just a guy, H. You can talk to him like any other.”

“I know. And I will talk to him … them. I just … I can only embarrass myself so much every hour.”

Shaking her head at me, she takes off across the room, her heels clicking against the black polished tiles and her mile-long, tanned legs eating up the space. I don’t need to look around to know she’s got the attention of at least a handful of men as she moves. It doesn’t matter that she’s off-limits to the guys. Brooke has this aura surrounding her, one that turns all attention on her. Something that I most definitely don’t possess.

I’m just the best friend who makes an idiot of herself as often as possible and only helps to make Brooke look so much more desirable.

Blowing out a long breath, I turn back to the bar, only to find that the bartender has once again vanished to serve someone else. Fantastic.

Thinking that I’ll just order a cab home, I turn to slide from the stool but come to a stop when I find a guy standing before me. One side of his mouth curls up in an unsure smile.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

His deep voice is immediately recognizable, and I feel the warmth of his hands against my waist from not so long ago.

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry about that. I’m a bit of an id …” My eyes run up exposed forearms that are covered in ink, the fabric of his shirt straining over muscular biceps. It’s open one button too many at the neck, showing even more art, but it’s when I find his light blue eyes that it feels like my world tilts slightly.

His lopsided grin turns into a megawatt smile, exposing perfectly straight white teeth beneath, and my entire body sighs.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

It takes me a few moments to register that he’s said anything, but once I do, I tilt my head to the side and look at him once more.

“Y-you’re the Brit?”

That lopsided smile returns, but this time a dimple pops up in his cheek.

“What gave me away?” I bite down on my bottom lip, and his eyes drop to focus on it. “It’s Corey. And you are?”

“H-Harlow.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Harlow. Shall we?” he asks, gesturing toward the bar before lifting his hand to signal the bartender.

Ignoring the vacant stool beside me, he chooses instead to stand next to me, just close enough that his warmth heats my side and his scent fills my nose. This guy knows what he’s doing. It should be a turn-off, but I can’t help but fall for his charm.

Maybe Brooke was right.

I bite down on my bottom lip as I attempt to remember what it feels like to be touched by a man.

Brooke’s going to kill you for talking to him first,I think as I look up at him once more, my cheeks burning. When I glance over my shoulder, I see she’s still preoccupied with Milo and a few other LA Vipers staff along with Reese and Fletch. That’s enough to tell me that I’m not heading over there anytime soon.

2

COREY

Tonight is my first night out—night off, actually—since setting up the studio over here. But Milo gave me little choice about it. He first mentioned it a few weeks ago and I pushed it aside, assuming he’d forget about it—or at least forget about me. But when he called again at the beginning of the week and told me I had to be here, I didn’t stand a chance. Part of my moving here was so I could spend time with this side of my family, a fact he was all too happy to use against me. Turns out, he didn’t need to try quite so hard; all he had to do was mention the quality of the women, and I’d have followed orders in a heartbeat.

I’ve been so busy since I arrived in LA that women haven’t been on my radar all that much. I mean, I’ve spent my fair share of time inking them, but that’s about as close as I’ve got. And my lack of action hasn’t been more obvious to me than those few seconds I found myself following a curvy redhead up the stairs to the VIP area, her arse swaying before me.

“So, you know Fletch?” I ask once we’ve given the bartender our orders. A pint for me and a rum and Coke for her. I must admit, I was surprised. I was expecting her to order a glass of bubbles like I’ve seen the other women drinking, or at least a glass of wine, but it seems this woman has been sent to surpriseme tonight. First, her fine arse, swiftly followed by her damn near falling into my arms not long after, and now this.

“Thank you. I need this,” she says, swallowing a generous mouthful before turning to look at me. “Reese is my boss.”

“You work for the Vipers?”

“Assistant foundation coordinator,” she says before taking another sip of her drink.

---