Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(38)

I took a deep breath as we emerged out the front door and I squinted at the unfamiliar street in what I deduced was a reasonably nice neighborhood.

“Who the heck do we know to get us ending up here?” I asked Bex in confusion. I said “we,” but I meant her. I hardly knew anyone well enough to get invited to any parties, let alone one in this area.

She shrugged her shoulders, with her eyes on her phone. “Fuck knows, Uber’s on its way now, though,” she muttered, rubbing her bare arms even though there was no chill in the air.

“Lily,” a firm voice clipped in my ear.

“Oh right, on the phone,” I muttered to myself.

“You’re drunk,” Asher stated.

“Affirmative on that Captain Jack,” I replied breezily. I hadn’t educated Asher on my new lifestyle, he always called early afternoon, before the drinking could commence. There was a reason for that, me not telling him, I mused. I couldn’t think of it at this moment, it didn’t seem important.

“Please tell me that’s not doucheface,” Bex cut in, nodding at the phone.

“Don’t call him doucheface,” I snapped at her. “It’s not him,” I added, giving her reason to smile. Aiden had been absent from our lives for over a week, much to Bex’s delight.

“Lily,” Asher demanded softly but firmly.

I sighed. My head hurt from the difficulty of having two conversations.

“Tell me where you are. I’m coming to get you,” he declared.

“I don’t know where I am, Asher,” I repeated impatiently. “That’s the point, we’ve got an Uber—” My explanation was cut short when the phone was ripped out of my hands.

“If this is the Asher I’ve heard about, we’re going to Mermaids in Tasman Springs, bring your biker buddies,” Bex ordered into the phone before hanging up.

I gaped at her.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

She shrugged, grinning mischievously. “I want to meet this guy. Properly. One heated conversation on our doorstep three years ago is not sufficient. Plus, I’ve got a terrible memory, it may or may not have something to do with alcohol. I need to see the Asher you’ve been running off to have whispered phone calls with for the past week. Over a week, dude. It’s about time you guys talked face to face, and did other things face to face.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Plus, I need to figure out if he’s good enough for my friend. We don’t need another doucheface. It all depends on results of the test,” she explained.

I frowned at her. “Test?” I repeated.

She nodded. “Only time will tell. A lot of it rides on how well his hotness has held up over the years. And how hot his friends are.”

I sighed and decided to relent.

I couldn’t lie and say I didn’t want to see him. In my week long bender, I hadn’t thought of much, I’d made a conscious effort to think of nothing. Apart from the times he’d called, I gave myself the luxury, to let his voice wrap around me, let our conversations take me away from it all. I tried not to think about him in the moments we weren’t speaking, but Asher’s face, his touch, the way he made me feel, that all crept into my dreams.





“Come on, you know you want to,” Bex whined.

I gazed up at her. She was slightly drunk, but she still looked kick ass. Her emergency hair and makeup procedures to get stage ready were rather impressive. Her inky hair was tumbled into messy ringlets around her face, false eyelashes were expertly applied, and her trademark heavy cat eye was sharp and fierce. Since her particular job description required her to take her clothes off for men, she was wearing a skimpy skirt, fishnets with a visible garter belt, and combat boots. Yeah, no stripper heels for this girl. The punters loved it apparently.

“Um. No,” I told her and Adam, the bartender who was smirking at me.

“You’ll be totally great, it’s like a double act,” she persuaded. “I know you’re a good singer, I’ve heard you in the shower,” she winked. “Plus, you’re hot as balls.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

She was my friend of course she’d say that. And she was drunk. And trying to get me up on stage. Of a strip club.

Though I would admit that I didn’t look like myself, hadn’t for the past week. I’d embraced my inner wild child, or more accurately let my wild child best friend have control over my outfits, hair, and makeup. I was wearing the shortest shorts I’d ever been clothed in, with a sheer top tucked in, a lace bralette visible underneath. The sky-high heels I was wearing were the only part of the outfit that was mine. She’d teased my long blonde hair and stuffed it into a messy ponytail. My makeup was intense. Like I could barely recognize the intense smoky-eyed, contoured girl in front of me. That was good, though. Being someone else. It was the only way to escape the big sad. I’d decided to adopt this new persona. Though I was drawing the line at singing to my friend’s stripping routine. I didn’t judge her, not for a moment, but I knew there was no way I was going to be able to do that without vomiting.

“Adam,” Bex’s voice snapped my attention back to the present moment. I took a sip of my vodka, such intense thought needed alcohol to discourage it.

“Do you or do you not think that Lily is the sexiest bitch you’ve ever laid your baby blue’s on?” It was a question, but the way her eyes were narrowed I could tell she would only accept one answer.