Page 46 of King of Pain
Jen smirks mischievously. “Well, this should be interesting.”
Lexi grins, crossing her arms. “Alright, I’m down. Let’s see what this Devil House is all about. I’ve never been, but I hear it’s a blast.”
Beau looks like he’s fighting the urge to pump his fists in the air. “Perfect. Let’s roll.”
Walking with my teammates, I steal one last look at Chance as we follow them to the parking lot. My eyes keep bouncing between his ass in those jeans and my name on his back.
Fuck. Me.
TRACK TWENTY•ONE
Devil Inside
Chance
The neon sign forthe night clubbuzzes faintly as I make my way inside. The DJ is on point, effectively setting the vibe for the growing crowd.
Jen mentioned that Halloween atDevil Houseis a big event every year. College students and locals alike show up in their best costumes ready to drink and dance the night away.
I don’t have any costumes with me in Arizona, so Lexi and I stopped by the nearest big box retailer on the way home. I found a black hooded robe—then I checked their toy section and lucked out, grabbing the last lightsaber on the shelf.
As soon as I step inside the club, I spot Ant, and my jaw drops. He came as Indiana Jones. The tan pants are hugging his legs tightly, his shirt is half-open revealing his muscled chest, and the hat dipped low over his eyes is a fucking good look on him. But it’s the whip that’s doing it for me. It’s dangling from his hip, just waiting to crack my ass and make me his good boy.
I will riot if I don’t get to touch him soon.
Jen steps up and gently pushes my jaw shut, snapping me out of my daze. She’s dressed as Harley Quinn, of course, and grinning devilishly.
“Not a word,” I tell her. She just grabs my arm, kisses me on the cheek, and winks.
Lexi was taking forever to get ready, so she told me she’d just meet me here.
Speak of the devil—as if she orchestrated the entire moment with the DJ, the door swings open right as“Venus”byBananarama starts blasting through the club. She strides in, perfectly on beat, rocking a sleek Catwoman costume clinging to her curves like it was made just for her.
Beau, who’s dressed as… Batman, loses his mind the second he sees her. “It’s fate!” he exclaims to anyone who will listen, grinning from ear to ear.
Butters struts up and stands next to Beau. True to his nickname, he’s dressed as a literal stick of butter fashioned from a cardboard box.
Lexi saunters over to the group with her signature swagger, stops in front of us, and places a hand on her hip. “Which one of you fellas is gonna buy this kitty some milk?” she purrs, her smirk daring anyone to step up.
“Catwoman,” Beau greets, his grin stretching impossibly wider.
“Batman,” Lexi replies, tilting her head with a playful glint in her eye.
Beau looks like he just hit the jackpot as he eagerly offers her his arm and leads her toward the bar.
I stifle a laugh, already planning to show up at her place with coffee tomorrow morning. I can’t really blame her. Beau is practically a Viking—about 6’4”, I’d guess—with medium-length wavy blond hair, a chiseled jaw, mountains of muscle, and deep blue eyes.
He’s nothing next to Anthony Pacini, though.
I turn to Jen, who’s also standing there in Lexi’s wake, and it’s my turn to gently pushherjaw shut. Then I offer her my arm, and we make our way to the bar for a drink.
Ant approaches, and I try to play it cool. “Indy, huh?” I say, my voice as steady as I can manage. “The whip’s a nice touch.”
He smirks, tipping his hat before removing it and setting it on the bar. His hair is disheveled, and it takes everything in me notto run my hands through it. “Thanks, Skywalker. Didn’t know you were a Star Wars guy,” he responds.
“Old school Star Wars,” I say, already bracing for the incoming argument.
Sure enough, Butters hears me. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who only likes the ‘70s and ‘80s part of the franchise,” he says, leaning in.
