Page 17 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

I rolled my eyes. “Can you set us up with some tequila before you lose your tongue?”

“Only place he’s losing his tongue is down my throat to find the worm.” Jamie gave him a wolfish grin.

The bartender’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed and shifted behind the bar before he left us to find a bottle of tequila.

“Didn’t even make it ten minutes,” I muttered.

Jamie hopped on the bar stool. “He’s kinda yum. He’s no Jason Momoa, but he’s got that hot island dude thing going on. I could use the distraction.” She rolled her neck as if she was going to jump into the octagon. “It’s been a minute since I found someone interesting enough to get naked.”

I understood that all too well. Jamie might have been a little more willing to take a chance with a random guy, but I’d been in stasis for far too long.

Since that night.

I smiled in thanks at the bartender when he poured me a shot. I slammed it back and shut my eyes against the barrage of memories that threatened.

No.

Nope.

It was just all this love and couplehood stuff going on around me. That long ago night in the club had nothing to do with romance, but it had been the last time I’d felt truly alive.

I tapped the bar and another tequila magically appeared.

Jamie’s eyebrow rose. “Gonna let me catch up?”

I shook my head and filled my mouth with a lime wedge. Then I downed the shot. Memories fizzled and faded with the tropical flavors. Not wine and shadows. No, here it was all tiki torches and floral scents. No reason to think about him.

No reason at all.

Why the hell did he keep scratching at my brain lately? I hadn’t thought about him since… God, almost a year ago. There was no way to avoid him entirely in the circles I ran in. He was a hermit of the first ord

er, but he was still one of the most sought after producers in the fucking world.

And my world was all about music, even if I’d chop all the heels off all my Louboutins before I worked with him again.

I stepped off my stool and stumbled a little. I was more used to heels than bare feet most days.

“Lightweight.”

“Shut up.” I flipped my hair out of my face. The style had started off cute but with the ocean spray and wind—well, I didn’t want to think about what I looked like now.

“How about a Tequila Sunrise, sister?”

I shifted back and eyed the glass our beefy bartender placed in front of me. I shouldn’t. Two shots of the potent top shelf tequila plus champagne was already asking for trouble. Too bad all my smart choices had disappeared like my shoes. I took the glass and lifted it. “Cheers.”

“Mahalo.”

When in Rome... “Right, mahalo.” I took a sip and hissed. Way too much tequila in there, but I took it anyway.

Jamie glanced my way as I stepped away. “Where you off to?”

“Gonna mingle.”

“Want me to come?”

I could tell she wanted to stay with tall, dark, and curly. Jamie might be a nine on the crazy scale, but she was off the charts when it came to loyalty. If I asked her to come with me, she would. I waved her off. “Have fun. I’ll be back.”

If I had another few tequilas, I’d be hiding in a corner, possibly slipping into a coma. It had been a long day of prep and impromptu rehearsals. Lots of standing around with an impatient bride. No bridezilla in Lauren’s game. She’d just been so excited to get to the wedding and to her man.

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