Page 49 of Never Date A Player
“Did you bring anything besides jeans and ratty T-shirts?”
He peers out the window and cringes. “I’ll find something. Give me five.”
Chapter Seventeen
Is there anything more annoying than how quickly a guy gets ready? I clocked Tyler because I didn’t believe he could do it in five minutes. He showered and dressed in four minutes, thirty-seven seconds. Men suck.
Tyler scrounged up a pair of dark chinos and a blue dress shirt that makes his pale blue eyes stand out like glass. His dark brownish-red hair appears black from his shower and mussed like he ran his fingers through it instead of a comb. I gotta admit, he’s rather pretty polished up.
“Tyler, you’re going to make the ladies very happy tonight.” He glances from behind the wheel of his clunky Land Cruiser and rolls his eyes. “What? I’m being serious.”
It’s a good thing Tyler came with me. He knows the location of the Timber Boathouse, and once we arrive, I realize I would never have found it. During the daylight, directions like “make a left at the burnt tree stump” or “walk down the stone-lined path” might make sense. In the dark, it’s all shadows and pitch. The sound of the music would have been a clue, but I’d have stumbled around for thirty minutes beforehand.
The path to the boathouse is gravel, causing my ankles to wobble. Tyler steadies me with his arm. “Easy there. No acting like a drunk before you’re actually drunk. You’ll signal the perverts from the start.”
I stop in my tracks. “Are you serious?”
His smile fades. “What?” He raises a hand to my shoulder and squeezes. “Gen, it’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
So this is what it feels like to have a trusted guy around. Big brothers kind of rock.
Cool air rushes into my lungs and I move again. The incident with Drake earlier has me jumpy.
Christmas lights stream through rafters, illuminating the inside of the boathouse. Bar-height tables balance empty plastic cups and half-eaten cake. Confetti and balloons litter the ground. We missed a few key ceremonies, like blowing out the candles, but the party is in full swing. Guests dance near the DJ, others mingle in loud, animated clusters, their chatter mixing with the music.
Tyler points to a far corner. “There’s Nessa.”
It’s a drunken mass, but of course Tyler sniffs out the beautiful girls. Sure enough, Nessa is in the corner in a strapless flare dress and five-inch heels. She looks gorgeous—and she’s standing in front of Lewis.
My heart races at a screaming pace. Lewis in a midnight suit with no tie, the jacket fitted to his lean, muscular frame is a vision to behold. Images of kissing him at the cascades crash into the forefront of my mind. I grab Tyler’s arm to help me stand, to help me think.
Lewis glances over, his gaze landing on me, a light filling his eyes—until his focus drops to my arm looped through Tyler’s. His jaw tightens.
Does he think I’m with Tyler? We walked in together, and Lewis doesn’t know Tyler is Cali’s brother.
Lewis was all business this afternoon. I’m not sure what the kiss meant to him, but the way he’s looking at me now…
I drop my hand and step to the side. “We should go over,” I say.
“Oh my God,” Nessa shouts as we near, her drink sloshing in her glass. Definitely drunk. Worse than the night at the club, but then, my perspective was off from my own beer goggles that night.
“I’m so glad you made it.” She hugs me with one arm and her beverage spills out the side. She steps back. “I would have mentioned the party this afternoon, but you said you had to work. How did you get out so early?” She gives me the once-over. “You look awesome, by the way.”
My face heats, gaze flickering to Lewis. “Thanks. I—um… I filed a complaint about one of the employees. They sent me home for the day.”
“Seriously? What happened?”
Tyler shakes hands with Zach and they chat off to the side. I fill Nessa in on Drake. Lewis hovers between our two groups, his attention on my and Nessa’s conversation. I know this, because his chest rises, jaw clenching, when I get to the part about Drake threatening me near the elevators this evening.
Nessa’s mouth drops open. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“The casino will do something,” she says.
I don’t mention my reservations on that front.
Tyler hands Nessa a fresh drink and slides his arm around her waist, speaking low in her ear. She giggles and he drags her a step away.
