Page 38 of Dangle

“Nothing. And I’m not constipated.”

“You look constipated,” Ewen said, and Priest pointed at him.

I looked at Cam, hoping for some help. No such luck. The fucker still snickered, but he’d quit trying to hide it. “Fuck off. I’m not fucking constipated.”

The Holt twins and Sasha turned to look at us. Laughter snorted through Sasha’s nose as he said, “Good to know.”

My gaze traveled beyond him. Our hockey players seemed oblivious, given they were chuckling, stumbling, and laughing but still facing away from us. Surely, if they’d heard us, they’d have turned, as Sasha and the Holt twins had.

Shoving Ewen’s shoulder, I pushed him into Priest, who stumbled into Cam. “I stand by the statement I made earlier. I need better fucking friends.”

More laughter, but I slowed when the bright teal neon sign for EDGE appeared. Ewen paused to wave Priest and Cam on.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“We’re going to EDGE.”

His face twisted in confusion as if he couldn’t follow my thoughts. “Uh, yeah. So?”

My chin jutted forward in response, but then I added, “Is he even into that shit? Is he aware of what he’s walking into?”

“Sounds like an opportunity to me.”

“Huh?”

His hand wiped down his face. “Jesus, man, really?”

I shrugged. Not following.

“An opportunity for the caretaker Daddy Dom to maybetalkto the guy he’s been making goo-goo eyes at for weeks and unable to take his eyes off all fucking night.”

“Fuck. That’s gonna be awkward.”

“Oh my God. It’s like you’ve smacked yourself in the fucking head and forgotten who the fuck you are. I mean, Christ, you weren’t this fucking shy and nervous when we first met.”

“Ewe—”

Strong fingers wrapped themselves around the back of my neck. “No. You are Abraham fucking Slone, a motherfucking badass,” he reminded me with a shake. “I know you’ve been struggling, but you’re a fucking kickass Marine, a phenomenal friend, an excellent lover, and one of the best fucking Doms I have the pleasure of knowing.”

I sucked in a deep breath, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Okay,” I said with a sigh as I exhaled. “Let’s go.”

Ewen’s arm settled over my shoulders. His hand hung down on my chest. We caught up with the others easily just as they made it to the doors.

“We’re gonna head into the dance club,” Aiden said, his hand on the door while he looked at us, his eyes darting toward Trey.

The reprieve drained the tension I carried from my bones, leaving me lightheaded. Following Aiden’s gaze, Trey stood off to the side, facing us with his phone in his hand. The bright, shiny, happy look he’d had most of the night and as recently as moments ago had morphed into…whatever this was. As he scrolled, his free hand moved from where it covered his mouth to the white-knuckle grip on the back of his neck. The loose-limbed, easy way he moved changed, too, resembling the rigid posture he’d gotten while speaking with the bartender at the game.

Looking at Aiden, the only one of our motley crew of merrymakers who knew Trey, I mouthed, “He okay?”

Aiden shrugged and opened the door.

What the fuck happened?

Whatever it was had him screwed him up but good, and the mess only grew worse when he entered the club. The boy tossed back drink after drink until the bright, shiny, happy, tipsy boy turned into a loud, obnoxious little shit less than an hour later.

And he kept fucking disappearing only to return even drunker than before. Now, he was on the dance floor, shirtless, with his button fly half open. His eyes locked on me, and he gave me a come-hither stare as he twisted and writhed to the music.

I shook my head. I didn’t come to Nashville to babysit a drunk fuckboy, not even one I had been lusting after since I first laid eyes on him.