Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

spinning a little, and I know I probably sound drunk as hell. Still, I’ve got my wits about me, more or less.

“That’s her!” I half-slur, pointing as I get up. I grab the edge of the desk as a wave of dizziness washes over me. On the video, Roxy is approached by some guy, and I recognize him. He was there when I approached her. He orders her a beer, and she never touches it, but when she looks away, you can see as clear as day that he slips something in the bottle.

“Son of a bitch,” Nathan breathes. “That bastard slipped something in her drink!”

I grab the edge of the security desk in a white-knuckled grip, my lip curling as I stare at the image on the screen, searing the man’s face into my memory. If I ever see him again, he’s going to get a beating. “Find him.”

Andre clears his throat. “I’ll get on the radio to the floor guys, and I’ll keep checking footage here. Trust me, if that asshole shows up again, he’s gonna catch a beatdown.”

“Okay, maybe I was wrong about the girl,” Nathan admits as we leave. I’m angry and would love nothing more than to go track this guy down, but the drug’s effect is too strong for me. “But it still doesn’t explain the wallet.”

“I’m going to go with it was an accident.” It’s the only alternative to she stole it and the one I want to believe most. Even an angel makes mistakes.

“Either way, we got a huge problem on our hands if this motherfucker is going around doin’ this shit. We have to catch him. I just don't know if we should call the police now or after we catch him,” Nathan says while I recover. “This type of shit is bad for business.”

“No cops for now,” I half growl, pissed off. “I want to teach this guy a lesson first.”Roxy

“You can’t be serious! You’re not going back there!” Hannah says, pacing the floor of our apartment. Moonlight is shining in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and even in this state, I have to admit that the view is the thing I like most about the place. Hannah is wearing Barney pajamas, of all things, and has put her hair into pigtails. I swear she looks like a big-eyed Angelica from the kids’ cartoon Rugrats.

Our grumpy looking cat, Mr. Felix, an orange and white Persian who adopted us when we were seniors in college, lazily watches her pace the room from his perch on the couch. I’m sure to him, his only concern about all of this is whether he’s going to have to get strict when it comes time for his humans to put out his food in the morning.

“Why not?” I demand. “I have his wallet. He’s gonna think I stole it.”

Hannah stops to scowl at me. “Honey, by now, he already thinks you stole it! Because, well, you did.”

“I did not!” I protest. “I just didn’t realize I’d stuffed it in my purse in my panic to leave.”

Her words sink in, and I feel a feeling of despair creep through me. “There must be something I can do. I can’t keep his wallet. The longer I have it, the guiltier I’ll look.”

Hannah nods. “There is. Just go by Monday and turn it in to the club. Or better yet, mail it to the guy. You have his address, assuming his driver’s license is up to date.”

“Wait,” I say. “Let me look him up.” I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Taking out his wallet, I pull out his license and see that it’s out of state, which makes me worry. But I have his full name, and I type it into Google on my phone.

The first headline makes my eyes go wide, and I jump so hard I nearly drop the phone. Corporate Executive And Stock Wizard Opens Club Jasmine. I click the link and see that most of it is a PR piece that was published just yesterday. My heart hammers in my chest as I read about how the two friends came together to open up Club Jasmine and how they wanted to make a new type of nightclub for the city. But the photo catches my attention more. It’s the same face, the same piercing eyes that captured me earlier tonight. He’s standing in the picture with the same guy who accosted me in the hallway.

“Oh, my God, he owns the club with his friend. That’s the same guy I saw in the hallway.”

“Let me see.” Hannah grabs the phone. “Shit, you weren’t lying. Mr. Jake Stone is sexy as hell. He’s got those looks and money. Life ain’t fair.”

“Yeah, not fair that he passed out before I could ride him to heaven and back,” I complain.

Hannah stares at the article for a little more, then hands my phone back to me. “That pretty much seals it. You’re not going back there. There’s no way they’d believe your story. You’ll just be some gold digger in their eyes.”

“Hey!” I protest, hurt. “I’m not a gold digging skank!” She’s right, though, and I feel horrible. I wish there were something I could do. But now I’m too afraid.

Not to mention my body is all sorts of mixed up with my hormones going in so many different directions that I can’t focus at all. I’m horny, scared, angry, and even a little bit hungry. “I can’t believe I was about to sleep with the owner of the club,” I say to myself. “Why did he pretend like he wasn’t some big shot?”

“Who knows? Don’t worry, chica,” Hannah says, coming over to wrap an arm around me in a sweet embrace. “Everything’s going to be all right.”

Right then, my phone buzzes and I glance down. Tears come to my eyes as I feel a tug in my heart. “It’s Mindy,” I say. “Not sure why she’s calling this late.”

“My cue to go to bed then,”