Page 16 of Villain

My palm tingles from the memory of Casper’s hard chest, and I curl my nails into them as punishment.

Imani’s laughing from her position in Marvin’s lap, nuzzling his neck and making him bite his lip.

I’m not laughing, and neither is Casper. I don’t look at his face, but I can see the whites of his knuckles as his fists rest on his thighs. Come on, I’m not that bad. He’s acting like he needs fumigating now.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to be civil so we don’t ruin yet another night for our friends.

“Why are you sorry?”

I take a breath. Why did I bother?

“Put your seatbelt on,” he snaps.

No one else is wearing their seatbelt, so his order seems ridiculous.

Reggie kicks Casper’s foot. No attempt to be casual, just a public warning to dial down the arsehole behaviour. “Try not to be a dick tonight.”

“He can’t help it,” Imani says, smirking and pinching Casper’s cheek from Marvin’s lap.

Casper bats her hand away, half amused.

He’s not horrible to her. They get along surprisingly well.

Ignoring him, I look out of the window, noticing how close we are to a cyclist. The taxi driver hasn’t said a word about the emergency braking incident. He probably hasn’t noticed, just like he didn’t notice the red light.

We arrive outside the club, and Marvin actually pays the driver for the near-death experience.

I walk with Reggie, since Imani is all over Marvin. They’re cute together, but I’m not a fan of being the third wheel.

“We survived,” Reggie says.

“I’m definitely having sex tonight,” I tell him.

“Yes, girl!”

Casper walks ahead on his own as if he owns the club we’re about to go into. As far as I’m aware, his family doesn’t own any clubs or bars, though. He acts as if nothing bothers him, but it must. I know I irritate the hell out of him, but he must have issues deeper than his “annoying” neighbour. I’d love to crack open his head and see what’s going on in there.

It’s probably full of cars, women, freeing criminals, and human sacrifice.

And my God, I wish he didn’t occupy so much of my mind.

Inside the heaving club, I head straight for the bar with Reggie and Casper. Imani and Marvin go to find a table, which is code for them wanting to suck each other’s tongues.

The air is thick and stuffy, but I couldn’t care less as the music vibrates right through my bones. There’s little that music can’t fix. I want to dance and drink and dance some more.

Casper orders three Jack and Cokes and a bottle of Prosecco. He gets points for going for a bottle, then a few more for refusing my money, though I can afford to get a couple of rounds in.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the two champagne flutes while he carries his drink and the bottle. Reggie gathers the rest in his arms.

Casper’s eyes flash to mine. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge my gratitude but it’s not a huge surprise. I’ve done my part. He can accept it or not.

Sure enough, Imani and Marvin are kissing when we get to the table they found. She’s giving him a lap dance to the beat of the music.

I’d kill to have her confidence.

“Reggie, your restaurant shag guy is watching you from the dance floor,” Casper says.

He’s a decent wingman, at least.

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