“So?” I sputtered. “So that’s messy.”
“Says the guy who hooked up with his roommate’s ex.” “That was in boarding school, and that was different.” My roommate had been an asshole. “Vivian will kill you if you touch Sloane.”
“No, she won’t. And all I said was I wanted to dance with her, not sleep with her.” Luca shrugged. “But hey, you never know. We’re on vacation. I could get lucky.”
I wasn’t a violent person, but in that moment, I’d never wanted to punch someone more than one of my oldest friends.
“If you—”
An eruption of cheers interrupted me midsentence. My gaze swung toward the DJ booth, where Sloane was dancing on a neighboring tabletop.
Sloane. Dancing. On a tabletop.
Hell must be an ice playground by now.
Every pair of eyes in the room was glued to her as she swayed to the music, which had transitioned from a dance mix to a sultry rendition of the latest R&B hit.
Either I was the world’s best dance teacher, or she wasn’t merely drunk—she was wasted.
On the bright side, I’d been right. Her stiffness came from overthinking, and when she wasn’t so focused on making every move perfect, she danced…well, she danced in a way that ignited every cell in my body.
I rubbed a hand over my mouth, torn between watching and stepping in. Sober Sloane was going to hate this in the morning.
My lips curved at the thought of her reaction, but my amusement died a quick death when one of the other club goers climbed onto the table, grabbed her by the waist, and started grinding against her.
My reaction was so swift, so visceral, that I couldn’t have explained what happened next if someone put a gun to my head.
One second, I was sitting.
The next, I was up and across the floor, my vision tinting with scarlet as I bulldozed through the startled crowd.
Sober Sloane would’ve kneed the guy in the balls for touching her. Drunk Sloane had no such qualms.
She turned to face the guy whose hands crept perilously close to her ass. If she moved another inch, the throng of people crowded around the table would get a perfect view up her skirt. Several already had their phones out, but they quickly dropped them when I approached.
Whatever they saw in my expression made them scramble out of the way as I climbed onto the table and yanked the guy off her.
I towered over him by several inches, but even if I hadn’t, the fury churning in my gut would’ve given me an unfair advantage.
He made a noise of dissatisfaction. “What—”
“You have three seconds to leave,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “Three.”
I didn’t make it to two before he gulped and disappeared into the depths of the club. Fucking coward.
Part of me was disappointed I didn’t get the chance to slam my fist into his nose, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
I faced Sloane again. She hadn’t noticed her dance partner’s absence or my arrival; she was too busy taking shots with one of the clubbers on the ground and, consequently, giving everyone an eyeful of her cleavage.
I grabbed the double shot of tequila before it reached her lips and tossed it to the side.
“Hey! I was—” Her protest cut off in a yelp when I swept her off her feet and tossed her over my shoulder. I didn’t trust her to walk straight in those heels after God knew how many drinks.
“Let me go, you Neanderthal!” She pounded on my back as I carried her off the table and out the door.
The club sat on several hundred feet of prime oceanfront real estate, and it didn’t take long before the sound of the waves overpowered the music leaking into the night air.
“Be careful what you ask for.” I dropped Sloane on a thick patch of white sand. I was tempted to dunk her in the ocean to sober her up, but even I wasn’t stupid or assholish enough to do that.
Yet.
“You asshole.” She pushed herself to her feet with surprising grace given her inebriation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What the hell do I think I’m doing? I think I’m making sure you don’t wake up to photos of your bare ass splashed all over the fucking internet!”
Her glare skewered me to the spot.
As always, Sloane was glorious in her wrath. On any other night, I would’ve sat back and watched that cool mask of hers explode in the most spectacular way, but she wasn’t the only one seething tonight.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’m not you. People don’t care what I do in my free time.”
“That’s not true.” I care. The thought rose, unbidden, before I banished it. “You’re a Kensington and a high-profile publicist, and the cameras are always watching. You’re the one who taught me that.”
“I’m a Kensington in name only.” A tiny flicker of vulnerability crossed Sloane’s face and stabbed at my chest before her expression iced again. “You’re always telling me to ‘loosen up.’ Now that I am, you have a problem with it?”
“I have a problem with some random guy groping you in public,” I snapped.
“Why?”
