Page 54 of Dirty Like Dylan
“Not well,” Katie said, as Con grinned at me. I gave him a little salute.
A salute? Since when did I salute people?
Gawd, how did I get so awkward?
“How about Ashley?” I asked her.
“Hmm. Not well.”
“Dylan?”
“Oh, he’s a real sweetheart.”
Great. Not gonna help my crush.
“How about Zane? Does he always stare like that?”
“Yes. He’s just trying to figure you out,” she explained, pulling me right past Zane and over to the far side of the pool. “My best advice? Ignore him. He’s harmless enough.” She turned to give me a meaningful look. “As long as you don’t stare back.”
“Um… and what if I do?” I asked, staring at him a little. I was fairly inebriated by now, and he was still watching me. He was smirking at me, actually.
“Don’t,” she said, turning me around so I couldn’t see him. “You came with Dylan, so he’s just feeling you out.”
“Oh. Like to see if I’m worthy of hanging with his friend? Like a bro thing?”
“Right…” she said, twisting her lip in her teeth. “Let’s just call it that.”
Okay?
“I know,” Katie said, “believe me. It’s intense when you’re the new girl. I’ve been there.” She drew me over to a dark-haired dude in leather pants. “Hey, Jesse…” When he turned to her, he immediately threaded his fingers through hers and before she could go on, he yanked her to him and laid a thorough, very intimate, very deep kiss on her.
Wow.
When she recovered, Katie said, a little breathless, “Um… this is Amber. Amber, this is my husband, Jesse.”
Katie’s husband grinned at me and extended his hand. I fumbled to take it as his dark eyes and million-megawatt smile blanked out my brain. I hardly had time to shake his hand before Katie turned me toward the guy he was standing with, a big, muscular dude with almost-black hair, sleeve tattoos and the kind of unmistakable alpha presence that had probably made more than one girl swallow her tongue.
Holy shit.
“Amber. Jude,” Katie introduced us. Jude shook my hand but said nothing. “My husband’s best friend,” she explained. “Also, head of security for Dirty.” When we’d drifted past him and out of earshot, she added in a hushed voice, “He’s also a biker. Don’t ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Anything. They don’t like questions about the biker stuff.”
“Oh.”
“That’s Piper,” she said, pointing out another giant biker dude, with blonde hair, sitting with Con. “Jude’s brother. He’s a biker, too. Don’t ask.”
“Okay…”
“You already met Maggie,” she said, as Maggie rejoined us. “Dirty’s amazing assistant manager.” Maggie waved the compliment off, sipping her martini and dropping onto a couch by the pool. “That’s Brody, Dirty’s manager,” Katie said, pointing out a hot brown-haired dude on the other side of the pool, as we settled in next to Maggie. “He’s with Jessa.” She pointed out the extremely pregnant, extremely gorgeous brunette next to him. Like if Victoria’s Secret had a maternity line, she’d be modeling it. “My husband’s sister.”
“Oh. Wow.” Good genes.
“Yeah. That’s Seth.” She pointed out yet another hot dude with brown hair and a short beard, who stood with his arm around Elle’s waist. “He’s the new rhythm guitarist, who’s really the old rhythm guitarist… long story. He’s with Elle, Dirty’s bassist. She’s my husband’s ex-girlfriend… Also Ash’s ex-girlfriend, more or less. They had a thing earlier this year. But it was kinda on the down-low.”
“Oh. Wait.” I swallowed my mouthful of paralyzer, confused. “I thought Ashley was…”