The Keeper: Chapter 2

“Don’t people usually celebrate in Vegas, baby Kingston?” Pace’s hot breath tickles my ear.

“Lay off the thing, Pace.” I laugh and push him back.

“You’re two years late, aren’t you?” He spins me around to face him, and I catch Everly’s wink over his shoulder.

“Is that my friend asking or my former agent?” I tease.

“Fuck former,” he argues and grabs my hand. “You’re my favorite gold medalist, Lindy. If you’re really sure you don’t want to compete anymore, there are other options. Did you get the offer I sent you from ESPN? They want you, baby—”

I glare, and he stops before using that stupid nickname.

“I’m retired, Pace. You and Andrew have to accept that at some point.” I lean in and kiss his cheek, then glance at my best friend and whisper, “Now have some fun tonight, but don’t break any hearts, okay?” Giving him a little shove toward Everly, I step back.

“I’m not the heartbreaker here, Kingston.”

Brynlee grabs my hand and tugs me behind her over to the table where Maddox and Callen both sit, legs spread wide, taking up as much room as possible. Two girls sit on either side of Callen, and another sits on Maddox’s lap.

“Seriously . . .” Brynlee grabs the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket and takes a big drink before she refills both our glasses. Champagne sloshes over the top as she points at Callen and Maddox. “You two look like you’re one tiger away from a really bad night,” she tells the guys, and I choke on my champagne.

Gracie moves next to Bryn and lifts her glass for a refill, then looks at the guys and scrunches her face. “They both look like they’re one night away from having to get a shot of penicillin.”

I giggle. “I don’t know. Maddox could rock the whole Mike Tyson tattoo thing,” I tease. “But no losing Doug. Got it?”

Bryn snickers and sips more champagne. “Pretty sure you’d be Doug, Lindy.”

I think that makes me the boring one. “I could be worse things.” I shrug, and Charles, who’s standing a few feet behind us, catches my eye. His thick arms are crossed over an even thicker chest. Not exactly blending in here. More like screaming He looks at me with a warning, and I turn away.

Whatever.

Tonight is for the girls, and I’m going to ignore my babysitter and have as much fun as I can squeeze into the remaining hours.

I lift my glass and tap it against Brynlee and Gracie’s. “Cheers, girls.”

“Cheers.” They tap back, and I can’t help the smile spreading across my face when Kenzie moves next to the table with Easton by her side. He looks . . . better than good. He looks incredible. Easton’s a big guy, at least six foot four with broad shoulders and a thick chest that tapers down to a lean waist. He makes Charles look small.

He’s mouthwateringly delicious, and he knows it. And when he smiles at me, I melt a little inside.

Without hesitation, I move around Kenzie, and step into Easton.

He slowly wraps me in his arms, and I bury my face in his chest.

I never feel as safe as I do when I’m with him.

“Hey, princess. Happy birthday,” he whispers, and a chill skates down my spine while I breathe him in. This man . . .

I don’t say anything.

I can’t.

I just enjoy the moment for what it is, knowing it’ll be over all too soon. And like a dream you wake up from before you get to the good parts, Easton pulls away and bro-hugs Maddox and Callen as Pace and Everly join us. The waitress stops by and drops off another round of shots, then hands a bottle of expensive tequila to Maddox and tells him it’s on the house before smiling and walking away. Lucky for her, she moves quickly because the girl on Maddox’s lap looks like she’s got claws and isn’t afraid to use them.

Kenzie and Brynlee pass out shots before Everly raises hers high in the air. “Happy birthday, Lindy.”

“Happy birthday, Lindy,” is echoed by our friends, and my eyes momentarily find Easton’s before I make my wish and swallow my shot.

Gracie takes my hand in hers and guides me out onto the dance floor as “In Da Club” by 50 Cent plays over the speakers, and the DJ announces, “This song is for the birthday girl, Lindy.”

Gracie holds my hand high above her head as the girls join us, and we get lost in the music. We move together with ease, laughing and smiling. Hands wandering. Feeling eyes on us and not caring because Charles is here. So is Maddox. And he’s a badass in his own right, even if we don’t ever talk about it. But it’s the other set of eyes on me that burn straight down to my core.

I add an extra sway and bounce that might be just for Easton, but fuck it. It’s my birthday, and I don’t care. Maybe that’s the shots talking.

I try not to torture myself with thoughts of him like that, but tonight, it doesn’t feel like torture. No. Tonight, it’s fun.

I’m in control. And I like it.

The five of us belt out the lyrics of each new song, lost in the electric energy buzzing around us, only stopping each time our server brings a new round of what feels like a never-ending round of shots to us. With each new drink, we become louder and more brazen.

Hands slide. Asses shake. Bodies grind.

Maddox still has sitting on his lap. Callen is dancing with two girls next to us. And Pace and Everly seem lost in each other on the dance floor.

Guess our girl didn’t need a wing woman.

After a few songs and a few more drinks, my skin grows damp, and my hair hangs heavy against the back of my neck.

I lift it off my shoulders, trying to cool down, but it’s no use when the shots have done their job and the warm alcohol courses thick through my veins, giving me nerves of steel. I glance back at the table and get a rush of adreneline when I find Easton staring back.

His eyes are glued to me. Heavy and hungry.

Only a moment later, they change, and it’s not hunger I see.

It’s something else.

else.

Hands slide to my hips.

Big hands. But not the ones I want.

I tear my eyes away from Easton and look over my shoulder at the man who just slid in behind me.

“I like the way you move.” He tucks me into him, and for a hot second, I think about grabbing one of the girls and telling him I’m not interested. That’s the smart thing to do. The responsible thing. But I don’t do that. I look up at him and smile instead.

He’s gorgeous.

Not really my type.

A little too preppy, but hot in a country club way.

Expensive clothes, expensive cologne, and I think better eyebrows than I have.

He looks like he spends more time getting ready than I ever have, and that’s not the kind of guy I go for. But for some reason, I decide to ignore the warning signs that this guy is not for me and lean back against Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.

Maybe Everly’s right.

Maybe it’s time to let loose.

Lindy might be dancing with someone else, but she’s watching me while she does it. And what the hell does it say about me that I can feel myself getting ready to snap?

With every shake of her ass, the strings of the invisible line I’ve refused to cross for fucking years are pulled tighter. Each time she lets this douche touch her, another thread frays.

“What the fuck is she doing?” I growl, and Maddox Beneventi raises his head from his girl’s neck. He watches me throw back the rest of my whiskey and tracks what I’m looking at. This douche is grinding against Lindy’s ass, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her glassy eyes are closed as his hands roam over her body. Hands that don’t belong there. Hands I want to rip from his arms, leaving fucking bloody stumps.

“Chuck’s here. Lindy’s fine,” Maddox tells me as I slam my glass back down.

He scoops his girl off his lap and hands her a hundred. “How about you go get us another round, babe?”

Her eyes light up like she just hit the fucking jackpot. “Okay,” she squeals, and I’m glad she’s with him and not me.

“Calling her because you don’t know her name, madman?”

“Might want to slow down there, E-man. You’re give-a-fuck is showing.”

“The hell you talkin’ about, man?” I’ve known Maddox a long damn time. As long as I’ve known Lindy and the Kingstons. But he’s younger than me, and it’s not like we hang out together, braiding each other’s hair. He’s always been a cocky fucker. But when your dad runs the Philly mob, I guess that’s what happens.

He pours the last of the Macallen into two glasses and hands me one, then swallows his. “I’m talking about the way you watch Lindy, asshole. I’m talking about the way you’ve watching her since she was a kid. Since we were all kids, you included. She might be blind, but I’m not. And judging by the way you look like you’re about ten seconds away from killing the dude she’s dancing with, I’m thinking you’re not blind either.”

I look over at her again and grit my fucking teeth as her head falls back on this douche’s shoulder.

Man, it’s easier to ignore this fucking thing between us when she’s across the country, living her life, and I’m here, living mine.

I slam my glass down on the table and push back from my chair.

“Be sure, man,” Maddox warns. “She’s the baby, and the whole damn family still sees her that way.”

“Guess it’s a good goddamned thing I’m not part of your family then.”

The bastard sits back in the booth and smiles.

Fuck him and fuck this.

I move onto the dance floor and grab Lindy’s hand. “We need to talk.”

The douche’s eyes grow wide when he sees me. Recognition lighting them up.

Guess he’s a Vegas Vipers fan.

I’d bet my signing bonus he knows exactly who I am.

“You’re . . .”

“I am, buddy. Now how about you give us a minute?” I pull Lindy toward me and watch the way her stormy eyes darken as her hands run up my arms.

“Easton,” she breathes out but doesn’t push me away. “That was rude.”

I bend my knees and toss her over my shoulder. “Then I guess I’m sorry about .”

“Easton,” she calls out, laughing. Damn, I love that sound.

“What’s going on, brother?” Pace asks with Everly glued to his side.

“We’re getting the hell out of here, man,” I tell him and start walking, knowing her whole crew, including my sister, is following behind.