Game fucking on, Alexi.
Chapter 18 – Lex
Imade it all of two feet off the bottom of the stairs before I met the crowd, who delivered me a hard stop. I had made it up to the pool table loft when I got to the place, because I purposely skirted the actual bar, and in turn, avoided the people not interested in moving out of the way as they waited for their own drinks.
Which was why I had asked for Brody’s help.
Don’t think it didn’t taste like acid to do it, either. The only reason I involved him and not Knox, who was just as big and dominating as Brody when he wanted to be, was because I wanted to get Brody away from Hannah for a minute.
I needed to feel him out and figure out just how far he was going to let this whole thing go. I knew he called the shots, so I’d go straight to the source.
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” His deep, gravely voice tickled my ear, startling me slightly before his gigantic body engulfed me in the crowd.
“Don’t act like you’re surprised.” I threw back at him, trying to ignore the way he smelled, as he put his hand on my hip and pulled me in behind him.
“I’m not.” He shook his head, looking back at me as his fingers slid through mine and tightened, dragging me behind him through the masses. “Try not to let your visceral need to be independent get you lost in here.”
I didn’t reply, because my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth as the crowd shifted and I was pressed up against his massive back. I wasn’t a small woman, necessarily. Sure, I was short without my heels on, but I wasn’t fragile.
Hannah was fragile in a soft and feminine way.
I grew up in the middle of mosh pits punching punks in the dicks for the fun of it.
But pressed up against Brody as the crowd swallowed us up with every step closer to the bar, I felt—feminine. Small and protected.
And it was a fucking head trip. Luckily, talking wasn’t required as the band kicked off their set and the drums began the beat to the classic rock set they started.
“Beer or cocktail?” Brody yelled over his shoulder as he pushed a frat boy looking kid out of the way and took another step forward.
“Whiskey. Maker’s if they’ve got it.” I yelled back, and he glared at me for a second before facing forward again. The crowd heaved once more, and someone shoved into my back, plastering me against Brody’s.
I could feel his growl at the contact, and it went straight to my stomach.
Okay, not quite. It went lower than that, but I didn’t need to label it to be fucked over it.
He pulled my hand, still tight in his, around the front of him to settle on his stomach as he shoved through the last few rows of people and made it to the bar. “Come here.” He pulled me around to his front and pinned me against the bar with his body pressed against mine, sandwiching me.
Protecting me.
Touching me.
Burning me. From head to toe, I burned from how he felt against me. Not once in my entire life had I wanted a man to touch me. Never.
But Brody?
I was nearly weak from how it made me feel.
“Tito.” Brody hollered, flicking his fingers up in the air, and the bartender ran right over to us.
“What can I get you, boss?” The young kid asked, leaning over the bar toward us. I didn’t miss the way he looked at me in Brody’s arms with question in his eyes.
“A bucket, and a bottle of Makers.” Brody replied, and I shook the spell he weaved over me off long enough to find my voice.
“A bottle?” I questioned as the kid ran off to get his order.
He laid both hands flat on the bar top and leaned down to my ear. “Do you see a better way to carry a glass of whiskey through that crowd?”
“Guess not.” I mused, turning to talk over my shoulder. Which left our faces really fucking close. “Why’d you invite me out tonight?” I asked before I lost the nerve.
“I didn’t.” He swallowed, flicking those dark eyes back over the bar to where the kid stacked bottles of beer into a bucket. “Knox did.”
“Whatever.” I sighed, hating how he ruffled my feathers with his touch and his words. Just once, I almost wanted it to be easy to communicate with the neanderthal.
“If it had been me who reached out, would you have accepted?” He asked against my ear, and I almost lied, just to test him.
“No.” I replied and then looked over at him again.
“Exactly, that’s why Knox was the one to do it.”
“Why are you okay with this?” I questioned.
“Because it makes Hannah happy.” He answered instantly. “And I’ll always do whatever makes that girl happy. Because she is the literal fucking sun in my world, and without her warmth, I don’t exist.”
My chest ached at such a bold declaration from the man who seemed so gruff. As he revealed the softer part of him where Hannah was concerned, I didn’t see it as a weakness like I might have with someone else.
I saw it for what it was.
Devotion and commitment. And it perplexed me more than anything else he’d ever said before.
