I have to get away while I still can.
“Tria?” a familiar voice says, but unlike the last familiar voice, this one is welcome.
“Raya,” I say, smiling, so damn grateful she’s here. Kode won’t dare do anything to me in front of her, because he’d be terrified it’d get back to his precious obsession—Rain.
She looks from me to Kode as if she’s confused. No doubt she’s become painfully aware of our horrible history by now.
“You two together?” she asks incredulously.
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I laugh, but Kode still seems to be in utter shock.
“No. You here alone?” I ask, not elaborating on the screwed-up situation.
“Yeah... but Kade is on his way. He had a meeting with a restaurant that wants to start distributing some of his wines. I told him I’d meet him here.”
I loop my arm through hers, savoring the saving grace she does not know she’s offering, and start walking away. “I’ll keep you company.”
***
KODE
Un-fucking-believable. Why am I still watching her? What is wrong with me? Why is my damn dick still hard?
Ah, hell. Are they really going to play pool?
Raya seems to be instructing Tria, and I watch with guilty pleasure as Tria leans over the table, offering me a peek closer to her perfectly sculpted ass.
No. No. Hell no. I cannot be attracted to Tria Noles. Nope. Not happening.
I glance down at my betraying appendage and curse it for refusing to lose its arousal. Several muffled swears and threats spill through my lips, but the damn thing is still at full attention.
“Pep talk?” Maverick jokes as he steps beside me, looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind.
I have lost my mind.
“No. It’s exactly the opposite,” I growl, wishing it wouldn’t hurt if I punched my own crotch.
“O...kay... So, I finally found a group of girls who aren’t total prudes. You coming?”
I glance over at the table full of sexy women that Corbin is already working over, but my eyes involuntarily gravitate toward Tria again. Damn... those legs. Does she have to hold that stick like that?
I groan and actually slap my own face, which earns an eyebrow raise from Mav.
“Dude, did you do drugs or something? Because you look like you’re tweaking.”
I scrub my face and make a silent oath to never drink again. Yeah right. I need something hella-strong right now.
“Whiskey—straight up,” I say to the bartender.
“Whiskey? Really? The hard stuff makes you a little... crazy.”
Maverick is grating on my nerves. I have serious problems right now. Whiskey can’t make me any crazier than I apparently already am if I’m losing my mind over Tria Noles.
The bartender hands me the whiskey and I toss it back in one sip.
“Keep them coming.”
“Dude,” Maverick grumbles, “what the hell happened?”