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And, okay, okay, if I get three reasons, I want to fuck him so damn bad. It’s been too long without my dick inside him. The burn for him alone; I might combust.
Rhett’s put me on the VIP list, so I don’t have to wait in line or pay cover. I recognize the crowd of likely suspects at a table in the back of the club. Logan’s on Rhett’s lap, still gorgeous, even with his face pinched like he’s been sucking on lemons. Jack’s got his arm around Coach Meyer, who has to have been forcibly dragged here. Neither Alderchuck’s here yet, but Dash and Dirk are leaning against each other in the booth. Their little found family is a bit too incestuous for my liking. Always with their hands all over Casey.
They scowl at me in sync. “Who invited him? Rhett,” Dash accuses.
Rhett smiles. “Guilty. You’re welcome.”
I don’t know what that means, but I don’t give a shit. Logan pats the seat next to him and Rhett.
“Get your ass over here. You’re my man’s bestie, that means we need to get to know each other … I think.”
“Shit, he must be wasted, Rhett,” Jack says. “Tryin’ to make friends? I can’t wait to tell him tomorrow.”
“I’m drunk, not unconscious, Jack,” Logan complains.
“We’ll see if that’s still true in twenty minutes.”
“You guys start at the house?” I ask.
“Lo wanted his favorite champagne. We ubered here,” Rhett explains, running hands through Logan’s hair.
“You took an Uber?”
“I know, right? Wanted to try it so I ‘talked’ him into it,” Logan says, stressing air quotes around the word talked. Talked means he sucked his cock, didn’t he? Oh, Elkington. You are so dick whipped, bro. “No one lets me do anything, but tonight we’re on an adventure.”
Jack’s laugh roars over the music. “Fuck, we need to film this for tomorrow.”
I grab myself a cranberry and soda and suffer Logan’s interrogation. Mostly questions about my friendship with Rhett that last all of a song, and then Logan’sfavoritesong comes on—or so he shouts loudly—and he drags Rhett onto the dancefloor. Rhett shrugs an apology at me, but I nod that it’s fine. I’m never gonna be that dick-whipped for someone, but I think they’re fucking adorable and shit.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here, Sutter?”
Tearing my eyes from the couple of the summer, I plant them on an infuriated Casey Alderchuck.
“Hey, kitten.” I down the rest of my drink and signal to the server for another one.
“Do I need to get a restraining order? Because I will. Stay away from me.”
I hold my hands up like I’m innocent, like he’s not the sole reason I came here tonight. It’s been almost a week without him. I just want a taste. Something to tide me over for the hockey season.
“I’m hangin’ with my bestie before training camp,” I lie. “Not everything’s about you.”
“Bestie? You don’t use that word, which means you’ve been talking to Logan. That fucking traitor. Elkington’s infested his mind. I’ll be at the bar drowning in tequila,” he informs his brother.
The other Alderchuck plants himself next to me at the table. They’re identical, but they’re two completely different peopleto me. Maybe if I only caught a quick glance across a room, but no, even in a crowded bar, I know the difference. Plus, my Alderchuck smells like watermelon Jolly Ranchers. This one smells like … I don’t know, but it’s the opposite of sweetness.
“He hates you,” Other Alderchuck says.
I laugh. “I know that.”
“Then you’ll keep to yourself?”
“Not a chance.”
His hands clench and he pauses to stare at me while he contemplates saying more. Something’s definitely there, on the tip of his brain, wanting to roll off his tongue. He bites his lip in half to keep his words to himself.
“You two are idiots,” he says, pushing away from the table. “But you’re also grown-ass men. I need alcohol.”
Not gonna lie, that gives me hope that I’ll score a little nookie with Casey before I leave town. Obviously, Other Alderchuck’s picked up on something other than hate from his brother or his response would have been different. I don’t need Casey to like me, he just needs to continue to crave my dick like he has been. Wonder if I can get his brother to talk once he’s knee-deep in tequila?
