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I press my lips together, debating the easier road. Should I just tell him or change the subject? I’m pretty sure Aldo’s the kind of guy who’d drop it if I did. Even as I decide that’s the way to go, I say, “I got injured skiing, and it affected my times. I never managed to measure up again afterwards.”

Aldo winces. “Shit. That sucks. Sorry.”

“It is what it is.” I shrug.

Silence hangs between us as we both sip our drinks, then a pair of hands slap down on the table causing us both to startle.

“Who’s dancing?” Joy demands.

The sophomores on the other side of the booth all cheer in agreement and slide out. I look up at Joy, an apology on my lips, but she shoots me a look that says, ‘don’t you dare’, so I swallow it down.

Aldo doesn’t wait for me to make up my mind, sliding out the long way of the booth after the sophomores. He slides an arm around Joy’s waist, tugging her toward the dance floor, and all I can do is watch.

I’m well aware I could go join them, but I don’t. Apparently, this booth is now a designated pity party for one.

By eleven thirty, the minibus I hired has taken the underclassmen and a couple of the others back to campus. I mean, I didn’t do a head count or anything. At the end of the day, they’re adults. If they want to do their own thing and find their own way back, I’m not going to be the one to tell them no.

The club is packed, and I haven’t seen Joy, Aldo or Doug for at least twenty minutes. I’m on my fifth rum and coke, but I moved onto doubles after my conversation with Aldo, and now the buzz is simmering in my veins, pulsing in time to the music.

I’m considering going after them to check that they’re still actually here in the club, when the crowd parts a little and I spot Joy, her arms above her head as she writhes in time to the music. I’m so caught up watching the way her top rises, exposing her stomach, mesmerized by the sway of her hips, that I only realize who she’s dancing with when Aldo steps in front of her, blocking my view.

Frowning, I watch as he grips her hips, pulling her against him as they grind in time to the music. My teeth grit. This is not how tonight was supposed to go. But I didn’t dance. Would she even have considered it, though? Another pair of hands come to rest on Joy’s ribs, and I blink, as Doug closes in from behind. I wait for her to move away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she grinds her ass back into him, and he leans forward, saying something into her ear that has her eyes widening.

As much as jealousy squeezes tight fingers around my petty heart, I can’t help but appreciate how hot the scene in front of me is. Both Aldo and Doug are gorgeous, even if one of them is the fucking devil, and the thought of watching them unwrap Joy between them like the gift she is, has my dick thickening.

I gulp down my drink, ready to get my ass on the dance floor—although I’m not sure whether it’s to break it up or join in—when the song changes and they break apart, laughing as they head back to the booth.

“Thanks for holding the table,” Aldo says, giving me one of his blinding grins as he slides round on the black leather seat.

Joy follows, her eyes bright and her skin flushed, tendrils of black hair sticking to her neck, but she just reaches for the drink she abandoned, avoiding my gaze.

“You guys having fun?” I ask, eyeing Doug as he follows after Joy, spreading his arms along the back of the booth like he’s the king of the fucking world.

He smirks at me in the way that has my molars grinding, pushing a hand through his hair. His biceps flex with the movement, visible through the material of his fitted black button down, and I hate that I appreciate it.

“Lots,” he says. “You?”

“Oh, I’m having the time of my life.” I lift my drink in a salute, taking a large gulp.

We sit there, the silence deafening despite the blaring music. Aldo snakes an arm around Joy’s shoulders but she leans forward, going to sip her drink, and he frowns. My heart crows. It seems I’m not the only one who notices her avoidance, though.

“Are my two captains fucking, then?” Doug asks, reaching for Joy’s drink and taking a sip. “Because it better not affect the team dynamics.”

Joy chokes, turning to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“It’s none of your damn business,” Aldo says at the same that Joy says, “We’re just friends.”

She snatches her drink from his hands. “And get your own fucking drink.”

I don’t miss the way Aldo looks at Joy like she’s just told him his puppy died, but this can’t be a surprise to him. She made it damn clear to me that she wasn’t looking for anything serious. But then, I’d come here tonight intent on changing her mind. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one with that plan.

“Just friends?” Doug winces, clearly choosing not to read the room. “Rossi’s dick that underwhelming?”

“Fucking hell, McMann.” The words leave my mouth before I can think better of it. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

He turns to me, looking me up and down. “Who the hell asked you?”

“You know what?” I fold my arms across my chest. “I can’t decide if you’re a mean drunk, or you’re just a dick.”

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