Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(11)

I hadn’t really been worried about it. Not at all, in fact. There was something about him, and it wasn’t just his size, that seemed to command every room he walked into, even this one. Charisma, I thought.

By the looks women were shooting him, I knew that he wouldn’t have to look hard to find anyone. Hell, showing up with a woman on his arm would probably only make him more appealing to this crowd.

“Am I like your wingman tonight?” I asked, as a particularly bold blonde gave him a thorough once over.

He seemed to like that idea, his smile widening unabashedly. “Wouldn’t that be ironic?”

“Why is that ironic? Because I’m a woman?”

His mouth twisted, and he stopped to study me. “I’m not sure I should answer that. It’s not a…friendly answer.”

“Well, now I have to hear your explanation. What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed. “You asked for it. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He leaned in close, speaking into my ear. We were just outside of the room that held the dance floor, so it wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t have heard him. I thought he was just doing it for dramatic effect. “It’s ironic that I’d use you for my wingman, when I want to f**k you more than any of the women here.”

“Oh,” I said eyes wide on him as he pulled back. “That was sweet, you silver-tongued devil.”

He laughed, and I couldn’t help but join him. Those dimples, and the clear admiration in his eyes, were a potent and irresistible combination, and his shameless flirting didn’t raise any red flags for me. On the contrary, I thought he was too much fun.

“What are we drinking, sweetheart?” he asked, tugging me back the way we’d come.

“Hey! Where are we going? I thought we were going to dance!”

“I just spotted my friend at that bar over there. Time for some free drinks. Lady’s choice.”

“Something with tequila,” I told him.

“Now we’re talking.”

We approached one of the bars near the club’s entrance. A good-looking blond male bartender grinned when he spotted Tristan, holding up his hand in a small wave after he’d handed two martinis off to a man in a suit.

“Hey, Cory,” Tristan said as we drew close. “This is my friend, Danika. Danika, this is my friend, Cory. Tell him what you’d like to drink.”

I shook the man’s hand, immediately taking a liking to him. I thought that was because of his easy-going smile. He was handsome, but more than that, he just had one of those faces that made you want to like him at a glance, with kind eyes and a sweet smile. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and I could tell he was built. He was thinner than Tristan, but he still obviously spent some time at the gym. If I had been on the lookout for a man, which I emphatically wasn’t, Tristan’s friends would have been some prime candidates.

“Nice to meet you, Cory,” I told him, not even having to raise my voice. I thought that was something you must only get in the really nice clubs, since all the ones I’d been to before I’d have had to yell to be heard.

“Nice to meet you, Danika. What can I get you to drink?”

I shrugged, biting my lip. I wasn’t a big drinker, so nothing specific came to mind right off the bat.

“Something with tequila,” I said.

“Shots or cocktails to start?” he asked, looking between me and Tristan.

“Let’s start with a shot,” Tristan said, his hand going to the small of my back to usher me onto a padded, high-backed bar stool.

We watched Cory as he mixed the shot. The only bottle I recognized was tequila.

“What’s he making us?” I asked Tristan.

“Hell if I know. Something with tequila.”

Cory made a production out of pouring the shots, sliding them to us with a smile. “Diablo shots.”

I laughed. “That sounds ominous.”

Cory wiggled his brows at me. “Oh, it is. Go for it.”

“You aren’t having a shot with us?” I asked him.

“I’m working.”

“At a bar,” I added.

He didn’t say another word, just grinned while he poured a third shot. He held it up to us in a toast. “This one is for the mysterious hottie on Tristan’s arm tonight! You’re a lucky bastard!”

I glanced at Tristan, and we were both smiling as we took the shot.

I just about choked as liquid fire went down my throat, but I got it down.

Tristan laughed at the look on my face as I set the glass down. “You didn’t like it?”

I grimaced. “It was a shot. I didn’t know I was supposed to like it. I sure as hell felt it. Isn’t that what matters?”

Cory answered, already busy pouring the next round. “Feeling it is the point. Good shit, right?”

I nodded. I was already a little light-headed, which meant that tiny shot had been pure alcohol.

I watched Tristan’s big hand as he picked up his re-filled shot glass. He held it up.

I grabbed my own, watching him.

“To sarcastic women who aren’t afraid to tell it like it is!” Tristan said, holding the shot glass up to his mouth, and tipping his head back.

Oh, I like this one, I thought, watching his throat work as he swallowed. A sexy man who liked sarcastic women…