Page 47 of King of Pain
I roll my eyes. “Let’s not ruin the night by discussing bad taste.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Butters says, laughing. Then he nudges Ant and adds, “I’m glad you came out with us tonight, PacMan.”
Ant gives him a nod, and I use that moment to get the answer to a very important question. Leaning toward Butters, I begin, “So, what does PacMan really mean—”
Before I can finish, Ant’s hand shoots out, covering my mouth. “Don’t,” he warns, his voice stern, eyes wide.
I blink at him, and without even thinking, I lick his hand. He jerks it back with a look of shock, and there’s no shame in the grin spreading across my face.
“Oh, you don’t know why we call him PacMan?” Butters says, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eye.
“Nooo,” Ant groans, dropping his forehead onto the bar.
Butters claps his hands together, looking like he’s about to deliver the punchline of a joke. “Well, friends, we call Pacini here PacMan not only because of his name, but because he’s packing—and I meanpacking—some serious meat.”
Ant’s head snaps up, his face the color of a tomato. He glares at Butters. “I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”
Meanwhile, I’m frozen, my brain screaming.
Fuck me, I did not need to know that.
Jen cackles and shouts, “Okay, be nice, guys!”
Beau’s laughing so hard he has to set his drink down. “Man, you’re never going to live that down,” he says, slapping Ant onthe back. “But seriously you guys, we have to get it its own room when we travel for away games.”
Ant groans again, picking up his hat from the bar to cover his face. I look at the ceiling, trying to hide the heat crawling up my neck. Sweet mother of mercy, I was not prepared for this man.
As the night goes on, the party hits its stride. The DJ plays a mix of nostalgic hits and modern bangers, and the crowd on the dance floor is hyped. From the corner of the room, I notice Beau flirting with Lexi. He’s clearly smitten, and she seems to be enjoying his attention, her head thrown back in laughter, hand clutching his bicep.
My eyes find Ant, as they always do. He’s had a few shots and is really loosening up. He’s smiling more, his movements less guarded. Watching him like this—happy and carefree—it’s like seeing a completely different side of him. I can’t look away.
He’s so fucking adorable.
Then he struts over and stops in front of me, his hazel eyes sparkling under the bar’s neon lights. He pokes me in the chest, his touch sending sparks down my spine. He leans in until his mouth is nearly grazing my ear. “I do love the costume,” he says, his tone playful, words starting to slur from the shots. “But I loved you in my jersey a hell of a lot more.”
I’m just standing here like an idiot, my heart pounding in my chest.
Holy shit. Did that just happen?
Suddenly, the iconic opening laugh to“Devil Inside”by INXS rings through the club, and Ant’s eyes light up. “Ohmigod, I love this song!” he shouts, his voice carrying over the beat. Withouthesitation, he makes his way to the dance floor and starts moving.
Who is this person? Andwow. I didn’t know he could dance like that.
Ant’s hips pulse effortlessly with the rhythm. He’s fluid and confident, and the way his body syncs with the music is hypnotizing. He grips the front brim of his hat and pulls it further over his eyes in a move that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen on a dance floor… until he starts grinding deeper with the beat.
Fuck, he knows how to move his hips. It’s a display of pure sex and filth, and averyprominent bulge is making an appearance on every gyration. If I thought Ant was beautiful before, that pales in comparison to seeing him completely uninhibited.
Every thought evaporates except one:Mine.
“Ridiculous, isn’t it?” Jen appears next to me, her voice teasing. “How hot he is? And man, that boy can move.”
I swallow—a futile attempt to quench the desert in my mouth. “Yeah,” I manage, still watching him.
Jen bumps her shoulder against mine. “For the record…” She shouts over the music, “I’m totally Team Chant, if you haven’t figured that out already.”
That snaps me out of it, and I shake my head, laughing at the name.
She smiles like she’s so clever, but then her eyes narrow, her tone suddenly serious. “But help me Goddess—if you hurt him, I will drug you, and you’ll wake up tied to a chair while I pull every single one of your fingernails and toenails from your body.”
