Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I hug him and start walking him out of the workshop with a smile. “The only thing I’m breaking in your bed is your headboard. You know, from all the banging?”
He laughs and rests his head on my shoulder. “I would have never guessed.”
Chapter 23
Corvus
The Tower is the largest nightclub in the city, at least according to Remo, who’s its manager and might be a little biased. I wouldn’t know. The only reason I ever visit this place, or one of the bars my family owns in the area is for work, which means I usually stay only as long as it takes for the poison to take.
The best thing about this whole bachelor party idea is that I got to spend the day shopping with Dalton, and he was more than happy to let me pick his clothes, which means that he’s wearing a pair of excellent jeans that sit on his hips so well I feel edged, and a T-shirt with the twisted silhouette of a howling monster.
He looks delicious, and I’d much rather be someplace where I could easily coerce him out of the new clothes, but a man can’t have everything. I don’t understand the point of this party in the first place. What am I supposed to be celebrating? Bachelorhood? With the man I’m already fucking and living with? It’s not like the piece of paper we will sign is going to change anything in how we already conduct ourselves.
Dalton looks at me with what I can only describe as stars in his eyes. “I’m so pumped! I’ve not danced in ages. Do you think Damen’s prepared surprises?”
I guess this is the crux of the matter and the reason we’re here. If it was just me, I would have called off the whole damn thing, but Dalton’s been so excited about this outing with my cousins that I didn’t have the heart to spoil it for him. It might mean I’m going soft, but that’s something to take a closer look at another time.
The glint in his eyes lights me up inside, and I know I won’t let it dim tonight. If he wants a wild party, he’ll get one. Though, I suppose it will take several drinks before I can stop feeling like I’m insulting Father’s memory by having a ‘gay night’ organized in my name in the top floor of the multilevel nightclub.
“Is that what you want to do most? Dance?” I ask, and fortunately we’re still close to the entrance, in the part of the club that functions more like a chill bar and therefore has an acceptable level of noise. Sadly, the smells at the club are a mixed bag at best. While most people wear perfume, all of it mingles in an unholy way with profuse sweating, and I’m on the verge of pressing my face to Dalton’s neck for respite. Like every day since I gifted him the perfume, he’s wearing it. I’m sure it will become his signature scent.
“Dance and drink. Two things I can’t do here when I’m on the clock.” He gives someone a quick wave as we pass and I’m instantly on edge. I need to work on my jealousy, because what I did at the tailor’s was an expensive mistake, as well as a personal embarrassment.
It was nice to wake up to Dalton pulling me close in his sleep.
My father’s face, pale as the death about to claim him, flashes through my mind, and I squeeze Dalton’s hand, pulling him to the bar.
“Then let’s start already.”
I need a drink. Now. Before I even reach the others.
I place a note on the counter, and moments later, we’re sharing a collection of shots. They’re too sweet, and burn my throat, but my body feels rigid, as if every muscle is slowly turning to stone, and I need the magical properties of C2H5OH.
“I rarely got to work on the top floor,” Dalton says between one shot and another as music pulses around us. “Pretty sure it’s ‘cause I’m gay. They didn’t want me distracted.” He laughs, but my jealousy is as neon green as my last shot.
“I don’t believe there are no gay people actually working there,” I tell him and pour the final shot down my gullet.
There. Now I need for it to work, and fast.
Dalton winks at me. “Yeah, well, they don’t have faces like your fiancé.”
I should roll my eyes, but it’s true. I’ve bagged myself a very handsome man.
“I’ll try not to break any more bones,” I mutter, and when he finishes his last drink too, I nod toward the staircase. The bar is relatively quiet, as far as nightlife spots go, but despite the excellent soundproofing, I sense the rhythm of the music played in the upper floors with my feet.
“Just put a ring on my finger already!” Dalton laughs and puts his arm over my shoulders. Despite going at it like bunnies at home, I still feel tense whenever he touches me in public. The alcohol is helping though, and I briefly press my chest to his, escaping before he can kiss me.