Pacing the length of my bedroom floor, I paused when the bathroom door creaked open. Mel stepped out, tugging self-consciously at her short, black skirt. The plunging neckline on her teal blouse stopped somewhere short of indecent. Maybe. Since every thought in my head centered around ripping the garment from her body, I wasn’t sure. 

“Too much?” She slipped on a pair of black stilettos and then grimaced. “It’s too much, huh?”

I caught her around the waist before she disappeared for another hour to mull over her wardrobe choices.

“You look,” my eyes dropped to her cleavage, “amazing.” 

I made a mental note to keep Logan and anyone else over six-feet tall far away from her.

After our Thanksgiving Day celebration last week, Mel finally agreed to come to the Parish for a show. She even arranged to clear tomorrow’s schedule. Which meant I’d have at least twenty-four hours to ravish her.

“Are you sure I look all right?” She bit her lip. “I feel naked.”

Taking tentative steps to the full-length mirror, she scrutinized her reflection with a frown. 

“If you were naked,” I smiled at her reflection, “we wouldn’t be leaving this house.”

Why were we leaving the house? Bending her over the couch seemed like a much better option. 

She sighed, stalking to the dresser to affix some dangly earrings. “You know what I mean. I’m more comfortable in jeans or a lab coat.”

A wry smile lifted my lips. “I seem to remember doing some pretty dirty things to you in your lab coat.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, about that: who has fantasies of fucking someone in a lab coat?”

Me.

It didn’t hurt that she was handcuffed to the bed at the time. Or that she was wearing her special red stilettos.

From the look on her face, I’d lost a couple moments recalling that fantasy.

“Freak,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Right back at you, angel.”

She pushed me away when I determined we had about nineteen minutes before we had to leave. Plenty of time to show her how freaky I really was.

“You don’t understand. I’m trying to fit in,” she grumbled. “It’s bad enough that I have nothing in common with these people.”

“These people are my family.” Defensiveness crept into my tone. “And you’ve never even met them.”

She sighed. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m the freak. And not in a good way. I don’t fit.”

“That’s not true.” Brushing the hair off her neck, I kissed her shoulder. “You fit.”

We fit. 

I stopped short of that little admission. 

“But—”

“No ‘buts,’” I squeezed her ass, “except this one. I don’t know what you’re so keyed up about. I go to your study groups.” 

“Study groups are fun.” Cringing, she squeezed her eyes shut. “See, that’s what I mean. That’s the kind of shit that pops out of my mouth. ‘What do you do for fun, Melody?’ ‘Oh, I study diseases. You?’” She groaned. “I’m sure that will go over really great with your friends.”

Leading her to the couch, I took a seat, coaxing her onto my lap. “These aren’t just any friends. I told you, they’re family. And they’re going to love you.”

Love. My stomach twisted as the word hung in the air. Absorbed in her thoughts, Mel didn’t respond to my tension.

“If you say so.” She swallowed, her mouth twisting like she tasted something sour. “I just don’t want people . . . you know . . . to wonder why we’re seeing each other.”

I tilted her chin and she reluctantly met my gaze. “The only thing my friends are going to wonder is what you’re doing hanging out with me.”

She smiled with no confidence. Even as I lowered my mouth to hers, kissing her with all the passion I could muster, trepidation spilled off her in waves.

I smiled against her lips. “Time to go.”

Guiding her to the door, she lagged behind as though she faced imminent execution. 

“Hold on,” I said, doubling back to snatch her scarf from the bedpost. “In case you get cold.” I winked, slipping the soft fabric around her shoulders. “Or horny.”

She snorted a laugh, straight from her belly. “I am not going to fuck you in the bathroom at the Parish.” She narrowed her eyes. “You do know that, right?”

“Of course not.” Resting my hand on her luscious ass, I squeezed. “The bathroom is way too crowded. But there’s always the dressing room.” 

“Dude, your girl is a hoot.” Cameron nudged my shoulder. “Why didn’t you bring her around sooner?”

I smiled tightly, my eyes never leaving Mel and Lily, dancing a few feet from the VIP section. My stomach twisted when I noticed them weaving through the crowd, headed for the bar. Again.

By my count, this made shot number three. Plus the two beers she had in the dressing room before the show.

For me, that was nothing. For Mel? I wasn’t sure. She was too nervous to eat before we came, so my anxiety catapulted straight through the roof when she started pounding shots.

Unable to stand it any longer, I shot to my feet. “I’m going to check on the girls. Be right back.”

Cameron grabbed my arm. “Whoa . . . hold on a minute.”

“What the fuck?” I snapped, shaking off his hand. “I said I’d be right back.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said evenly. “Send Seth. That’s what we pay him for. You might get mobbed if you hit the main floor.”

The security guard in question stood in front of the VIP area, his thick arms crossed over his chest.  

“I’ll take my chances.” 

Cameron groaned, but followed me nonetheless. 

“Dude, what’s your problem?” He fell into step behind me as we elbowed our way into the crowd. “You’re the one who’s always talking about security. All these people just saw us on stage an hour ago.”

Waving off Cameron’s warning, I reached the bar in time to find Mel and Lily clinking glasses.

Wrapping my arm around Mel’s hip, I leaned close to her ear. “Having a good time?”

She looked up at me with unfocused eyes.

“I’m having a greeeat time,” she purred. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in aaages.”

Rising to her tiptoes, she planted a sloppy kiss on my mouth. Or near my mouth.

“I need another drink.” Eyes hooded, she rocked against me. “Buy me a drink, rock star, and I promise you’ll get lucky tonight.”

“Is that right?”

Sliding my fingers into the damp hair at the nape of her neck, I pressed a kiss to her lips. 

If distracting Mel was my goal, she turned the tables on me. Her tongue swept into my mouth, twisting and tangling around mine for what seemed like forever. The alcohol mixed with her unique taste, enlivening my senses.

My eyes popped open when I felt an insistent tap on my shoulder. I twisted to find Lily glaring at me with mock irritation.

“You need to quit pawing my dance partner.” She slapped my chest with an uncoordinated hand. “We’re not done yet.” 

My hearty laugh died when Lily wiggled between us, forcing another shot into Mel’s hand.

Taking a sniff of the clear liquid, Mel’s brows shot to her hairline. “What octane is this?”

“That’s tequila—fully leaded.” Lily giggled at Mel’s skeptical expression. “You’ve never tried tequila? Where you been hiding, girl—under a rock?” 

“Kind of.” Mel took another whiff. 

Grabbing a saltshaker, Lily continued, “I used to work in a bar. There’s a right way and a wrong way to do a shot of tequila. Let me show you how it’s done.” 

Mel peered up at me as Lily forced Cameron onto a barstool. “What are they going to do?”

“Watch.” Wrapping my arms around Mel’s waist, I tucked her back to my chest. The longer this little show went on, the more time I’d have to either down Mel’s shot, or hide it.

Lily snagged the lime from the rim of the glass and waived it in Cameron’s face. “May I?”

He smiled. “Sure, darlin’. I’m game.”

Lily slipped the fruit between Cameron’s teeth, drawing the attention of a few rowdy patrons nearby.

“Body shot! Body shot! Body shot!”

The chorus rang out as the revelers clapped and hooted, their cries drowning out the music pouring from the speakers above the bar.

Eager to comply, Lily grabbed the shot of tequila while simultaneously gripping the front of Cameron’s jeans. Catching her wrist, he shook his head emphatically.

Once upon a time, Cameron not only enjoyed a woman retrieving a shot from the waistband of his jeans, he encouraged it. But Lily was his girlfriend. And a picture of her diving head first into his crotch was not an image he wanted circulating.

Prying the glass from her hand, Cameron held it gingerly between two fingers. Lily pouted, but in this case it did her no good. The boy might be whipped, but he wasn’t that whipped.

Since Cameron wasn’t budging, Lily put in some extra effort when she licked her wrist and applied the salt. Cam’s eyes glazed over as her tongue darted out to retrieve the granules.

When she was sure she had his full attention, Lily launched herself at him.

Everyone cheered as she crushed her lips to his. Oblivious to the cameras memorializing the moment, Cameron devoured her mouth. It took a good minute for Lily to pull away with the rind between her teeth.

Caught up in the moment, I clapped along with everyone else until I felt Mel grip my arm.

Eyes wide, she blinked up at me. “I want to do that.” She licked her lips. “Right now.”

I slanted my gaze to the shot dangling from her fingertips. “How many of those have you had, angel?“

Ignoring the question, Mel pinned me against the bar, a devious smile curving her lips. My wariness faded as she coaxed the fruit into my mouth. She looked totally fucking hot, clumsily licking the salt from her skin. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

After Cameron and I arrived, more and more people wandered to the bar. And since we had no security to hold them at bay, I got a clear shot of the dude checking out Mel’s ass. I was about to stand, when she downed the shot.

Then her mouth was on mine, and her fingers were in my hair. I fought valiantly, but she won the battle, her nimble tongue prying the lime wedge from my teeth with little effort.

Stumbling out of my arms, she took a wobbly bow in deference to the cheers ringing out around us. The asshat who’d been staring at her ass was now looking directly at her tits, a lascivious grin on his mug.

Mine. 

“Come here,” I rumbled. “I’m not done with you.”

She yelped as I cupped the back of her neck, my mouth descending on hers possessively. As my thumb caressed the soft, dewy skin at the hollow of her neck, the background noise fell away, my world reduced to the faint beat of her heart thrumming beneath my touch.

Mine.

Hearing Logan’s loud chuckle, I slid my lips from Mel’s. Leaning against the bar with Seth the security guard at his side, Logan shot me a shit-eating grin.

“I can see why Christian’s been keeping you under wraps,” he said to Mel. “You’re a wild thing, aren’t you?”

Instinctively, my fingers dug into the curve of Mel’s waist. “I haven’t brought her around because she’s busy. I told you she’s a grad student. She studies—”

Mel slapped my arm in a playful yet decisive gesture. “Nobody wants to hear about thaat.”

Ignoring Logan completely, Mel pecked me on the lips and then lurched toward Lily. The two of them nearly fell into a heap, giggling when they bumped heads. I caught Mel’s elbow to steady her, but she shimmied free.

“We’re going to dance,” Lily announced, grabbing Mel by the hand. “See y’all later.”

Mel shrugged as Lily hauled her away. Arm in arm, they teetered toward the main floor. My smile evaporated when the crowd pushed in around them.

“What’s up your ass, Wikipedia?” Logan took a long draw from his beer, eyeing the dance floor. “I wouldn’t be wearing a frown if I was taking Melody home tonight.” 

A flash of heat shot through me. Jealousy? I’d never felt it. But at the moment, ripping Logan’s arm off and beating him with it seemed like an option.

“You’re not taking her anywhere.” My response was somewhere between a growl and a roar. “And quit looking at her like you want to make her a meal, dude. I’m fucking serious.”

Pausing with the bottle halfway to his lips, Logan’s brows drew together. “Chill, man. You’re starting to sound like this one over here.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder at Cameron. “There’s plenty of fine ass to go around. Y’all don’t have to worry about me cutting in on your action.”

Cameron and I exchanged a look of indignation. I’m guessing he didn’t like having his girlfriend referred to as “fine ass” any more than I did. 

Girlfriend . . .

The word sounded foreign. Other people had girlfriends. People who didn’t know any better. Ready to mount a protest, I spotted Mel gyrating on the dance floor. She crooked a finger at me, her brilliant smile flashing under the pulsing lights. Suddenly, I didn’t care about the title, as long as the word “my” was in front of it.

Waving off Seth’s attempt to keep me in my spot, I edged into the crowd in search of my girl.

“There she is.” I took Mel’s hand and spun her around. “How’s it going, beautiful?”

God, she was beautiful. And flushed.

Her forehead wrinkled. “I’m a little thirsty. It’s hot in here, right?”

It was hot, but not overly so. And thirst was one of the warning signs of diabetes. Did that apply to all diabetics or just those who weren’t diagnosed?

Taming the wild thoughts ricocheting around my head, I cupped Mel’s cheek. She was soaked, the back of her neck slick with sweat.

“You don’t look good. I think it’s time to go.”

“No, Christian. I’m having a good time. I feel . . .”

My chest tightened as I watched her fumble to find the word. “You’re not well. We’re going.”

Overhearing my comment, Lily spun around, cocking her head at Mel. “Are you all right, sweetie?” 

“I’m . . . I’m fine,“ Mel stammered. “I’m fine.”

The last time she told me she was fine her blood sugar was fifty-three.

Picturing every catastrophic scenario, I shifted my gaze to Lily and said, “We’re leaving. Mel’s sick.”

The minute I said it, I realized my mistake. Words like “sick” didn’t exist in Mel’s vernacular when it came to her diabetes.

She glared at me.

“I mean, she’s not feeling well,” I amended. “Too much tequila.”

Lily nodded, wordlessly falling into place behind Mel as I pushed our way through the crowd.

When we exited the dance floor, Mel pumped the brakes. “Christian,” she bit out. “I said I was fine.”

Lily looked between us. “Honey, if you’re sick—”

“I’m not sick!” Mel roared. Pressing her lips together when she noticed Lily’s alarmed expression, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I’m not sick.”

“She’s fine,” I interjected “She’s a—”

I stopped myself a second before the “D” word tripped past my lips. Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile before lying through my teeth.

“Mel just got over a cold. Isn’t that right, angel?” Mel nodded, staring at her toes. “So I think we’re going to call it a night.”

We stopped at the bar long enough for Mel to give Lily a hug and offer a slurred good-bye to the rest of my crew.

She didn’t say anything when I entwined our digits and led her away, but I could feel the anger swirling around her like a cyclone.

Once we entered the maze of hallways in the back of the club, Mel shrugged off my grip. Irritation tensed my jaw when she lagged behind, but I couldn’t decide if I was mad at myself, or at her.

Pushing the back door open, my head cleared as soon as I inhaled the crisp, autumn air. When I turned to offer some kind of explanation, Mel was headed in the other direction, stumbling toward the alley leading to the front of the building.

I reached her in four quick strides, catching her around the waist. “Where are you going, baby? The cars over—”

“Don’t call me baby. I’m not a baby.” She wiggled out of my hold. “I’m getting a cab.” 

My temper flared, even though I knew she had every right to be annoyed.

“Melody,” I took her elbow, “you’re fucking trashed. Stop acting stupid and—”

“Stupid?” She rose to her tiptoes, because, apparently she needed the extra few inches to make sure her ear-splitting shriek caught my attention. “You’re calling me stupid?! I may be drunk, but I’m not stupid! You just embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did!” Moisture welled in her eyes. “I was just . . . I wanted to fit in. And you…” 

Her thought trailed off as she looked at me, a solitary tear dancing on her eyelash.

I blew out a breath. “Look, I was just worried, okay? You didn’t eat. And the booze—”

“You think I don’t knooow about booze?” She narrowed her unfocused eyes. “I’ve been a diabetic since I was six years old.” She held up seven fingers—which would have been funny if she wasn’t so damn mad. “I’ve even dranken before.” She shook her head. “I mean, I’ve even drank before.” 

I rubbed the back of my neck, playing the nights events over in my head. Mel’s cheeks were no longer flushed and she didn’t appear to be in any distress.

“Maybe I overreacted.”

“That’s the proooblem, Christian.” She lurched, fisting my T-shirt as she fought for balance. “I didn’t ask for your help. You’re as bad as Mitch.” Stumbling to the wall, she leaned against the bricks.

Anger flared as I closed the gap between us. Tucking a knuckle under her chin, I forced her gaze to mine.

“What’s Mitchell got to do with this?” 

“Not a damn thing since I stopped doing him.” She hiccupped, and then she amended, “Dating him. Since I stopped dating him.”

Grinding my molars, I grabbed her hand. “Come on; we’re going.” 

“I want a cab,” she whined, stumbling along behind me.

“Too bad.” I shot her a glare. “I want a lot of things. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get them.”

At the moment, the thing I wanted most was the image of her and Mitchell scrubbed from my brain. 

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen either.