Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(3)

“Lily,” I heard my named whispered urgently.

I reluctantly tore my gaze off the approaching men and moved it to settle on Amy, who was looking panicked sitting up awkwardly from her sun lounger. I was thankful to have a reason to escape my own head. I’d get trapped in there if I wasn’t careful.

“What?” I half yelled at her. I would never have yelled, half or otherwise at anyone, had I not had tequila in my system. I would’ve mumbled something, gone red and most likely embarrassed myself. Tequila equaled zero embarrassment. It ruled.

“Come here,” she hissed, her eyes darting to Brock, who was chatting to Lucy, his attractive eyes kept moving in Amy’s direction. She looked seriously freaked.

No wonder. I did crappy around people in general most of the time, hot guys like the ones I was presented with were in danger of turning me mute. I didn’t see why Amy was so panicked, though, the chick was drop dead gorgeous. She radiated confidence and didn’t have any trouble conversing with the sex god bikers. I had witnessed her exchanging witty banter with the men since I started working at her and Gwen’s clothing store.

“What?” I asked when I got to her side.

Her eyes went from Brock to me one more time. They were that kind of drunken alert that I had seen on my friends. You knew you had to get your shit together, but you were also struggling to stay upright.

“I need you to go and get the booze off Brock,” she ordered quickly.

My stomach dropped, the idea of approaching him, and the arguably hotter guy with him, had me wanting to break out in hives.

“I’ve never spoken to him—he kind of scares me. Why can’t you do it?” I half pleaded. Tequila may have burned away most of my crippling shyness, but it hadn’t taken away all of my self-preservation. At least not yet.

“It’s a long story,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “It involves a sex marathon and his stupid man bun. Will you do this for me? Please?” She didn’t wait for me to reply and gave me a gentle shove. One that wouldn’t normally have moved a sober Lily, but drunk Lily went tottering off in the direction of Brock.

I was in front of him and the dark-haired man before I even knew what was going on. I blinked a couple of times to get my eyes in focus. Brock was his name. I’d seen him around before. He was big, way taller than me in my bare feet, and muscled like some kind of Navy Seal. His sandy blond hair was fastened into a bun, and tattoos covered most visible parts of his muscled body. I quickly glanced at the Sergeant at Arms patch on his leather vest before moving my gaze elsewhere. It was the guy beside him that had me momentarily mute. His hair was dark and closely cropped to the skull on the sides, and slightly longer and mussed on top. I couldn’t see any visible tattoos on him, though he had a matching vest to Brock, with a crisp white tee underneath that hugged his impressive torso.

Cut. A little voice whispered the word to me. Cut, not vest. That’s what they called it, the leather they wore with the club’s patch embroidered on it.

I swallowed and moved my gaze up again. He had a strong, clean-shaven jaw and wasn’t as tall as Brock, nor as muscly. That didn’t mean he was short or lean. He just wasn’t Giganto. Which was good, I wouldn’t need a ladder to kiss him, just high heels.

Wait, why in the heck was I thinking about kissing him? You had to be able to talk to hot guys in order to kiss them.

“Hey, it’s Lily right?” Brock addressed me with a smirk, though his tone was kind.

I jerked, tearing my attention away from rich chocolate eyes. Oh shit. I’d been standing in front of them, silent and staring like I should be wearing a helmet to bed or something. Mortification commenced, but luckily I had tequila on my side.

“Yeah, Lily. That’s me, my name I mean. I’m not an actual Lily because that’s a flower and I’m a human named after a flower,” I babbled, realizing only just now the extent of my drunkenness. Or maybe my social awkwardness.

Brock grinned, the dark haired one stared at me, his eyes roving my bikini-clad body.

I ignored the feel of his eyes, the dip in my stomach at his gaze. I swallowed and focused my attention on Brock.

“Sooo, are you having a good night?” I asked, trying to remember why the heck I’d come over here. I struggled not to fidget with my hands, and my eyes darted around in search of an escape.

Brock’s grin got bigger. “I wasn’t, till now. Lucky you gals need your liquor, or I would’ve missed out on all this,” he said, waving his arm around the party.

A light bulb lit atop my head. “Liquor,” I exclaimed in relief. “Yes, liquor. That’s why I’m here... not here in this house, but here,” I pointed to the ground then gestured between us. “Like here in front of you. Amy wanted me to get the booze.” I pointed to her, hoping to get the attention off me and what a bumbling idiot I was.

Brock’s smile dimmed slightly as he followed my eyes. He shook his head.

“I got it, darlin’. Amy shouldn’t be sending you over here to do her dirty work. I’ll take care of her. You have a good night now.” He winked at me and then moved toward Amy, who tried to ungracefully scramble off her chair. I wanted to watch, but my brain was looking out for me when I realized I was standing alone with the hot biker. One that hadn’t stopped staring at me throughout the entire painful exchange. I attempted to move to make my escape, before I did something that would require me to die of embarrassment tomorrow morning.