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

“She said she would think about it.” I don't point out that she isn’t my girl. She will be soon enough.

“Think about it?” Nathan asks, surprised. “Didn’t you say she was crazy about singing? What gives?”

I think back to what she told me and what I saw in her room. “She has some hang-ups. She’s been burned before. But I think she’ll come through.”

Nathan shakes his head and puffs some more cigar smoke toward the ceiling. “Shit, I hope so. Those people were in fucking love with her! She rocked that stage like nobody’s business. Shit, Beyoncé who? Selena what? Fuck that skank bitch Miley Cyrus. I’m telling you, man, Roxy should be a household name! One name too. She’s gonna be so big if you say Roxy, the whole fuckin’ world knows who we’re talkin’ about.”

I sit back, sipping my own champagne and chuckling to myself. It’s funny how Nathan went from calling her a sleazy broad to this. But I don’t blame him. Part of that is Nathan. He’s always been one to do a lot of shit talking until he really likes you. Most of it is Roxy, though. Her taking this gig will end up doing big things for her. I can just feel it.

I chuckle. “Brother, I totally agree. She is pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

Andre’s voice crackles over the small walkie Nathan carries. “Hey, I think that creepy dude is back at his shit.”

My heart jumps in my chest as we both leap to our feet, Nathan just a fraction of an inch faster in snatching the radio up. “Where?” Nathan almost yells.

Andre’s voice crackles back. “At the bar. Near the bathrooms. He’s wearing a fucking purple blazer. Can’t miss him.”

We both take off, Nathan running ahead of me, pumping his shorter legs as fast as they will allow. I’m behind him simply because I don’t want to send him tumbling down the stairs. It’s early still, and the club isn’t quite packed since it’s just a Thursday night. We reach the foot of the stairs and I reach out, grabbing Nathan’s shoulder. “Wait!”

“What?” he asks, turning. “Let’s go bust this motherfucker!”

“No doubt,” I reply, “but we need to make sure we don’t freak everyone out. Go chill, okay?”

Nathan takes a big breath but nods. “Fine, I’m chill. Now where is he so I can go unchill?”

We look, and I see him first at the bar, that loud blazer making him stand out. He’s pressuring some girl who’s saying no in heavily-accented English.

The game is up, though, when the girl’s eyes flicker over to Nathan and me in desperation and the guy turns. Seeing us, he takes off. Nathan flies through the crowd while I cut at an angle. He’s so busy looking behind him for Nathan that I barely have to do anything to grab his arm and spin him around, locking him in an armlock with my other hand grabbing the back of his horrendous jacket. “Shouldn’t have come back,” I say in a threatening tone.

“Let me go, man!” the guy whines, squirming in my grasp. “I didn’t do nothing!”

“You’re full of shit, you . . .” Nathan yells before he lowers his voice, getting up close to the guy as I start pulling him toward the door. “You’re fucking scum of the earth,” Nathan rasps.

Nathan leads the way to the side door as we drag the guy outside. I see John, one of the security guys, covering our back, which I’m glad for. The former Delta Force operative can make sure we don’t take things too far.

“Is this your thing, going around and drugging women in clubs?” Nathan demands as I hold onto the guy. “How many?”

The guy sputters, trying to play it innocent. “I didn’t drug nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying, asshole,” I rasp in his ear, jerking him around. “I drank one of your little spiked beers. So Nathan, what do we do to him?”

“You already know my answer. I say eye for a fuckin’ eye,” Nathan growls, cracking his knuckles. “He wants to drug and fuck women? I say we make him a bitch.”

Nathan’s threat makes the man struggle wildly, and he jerks his head back, catching me on the lip. I feel my lip split, and I grunt in pain as I pull my head back, loosening my grip just enough that the guy breaks free.

He takes off, trying to make a run for it, but Nathan’s quick for his size and tackles him around the knees, taking him down to the ground. Before Nathan can move, though, the guy kicks Nathan in the shoulder and tries to get up before my flying bodyweight drives him onto his back on the concrete.

I pop him once in the face, his head rocking back and hitting the concrete. I rear back again, but Nathan grabs me, pulling me off.

“He’s done, man!” he says. “His head went down pretty hard. You keep going and you’ll be talking with the cops.”

He’s right. Adrenaline just kind of took over. “John, call the cops,” I say.

“Just a second,” Nathan says, turning and punting the guy as hard as he can in the ass. He howls in pain, and I gotta believe that a size eight pointy wing tip up your ass has to hurt. “Get this fucking piece of shit outta here!”

After the cops come by, we go back in the club, where we’re both treated to a standing ovation and cheer from the patrons—the story’s spread that fast. “See, brother?” Nathan says, patting me on the back. “Take out the trash, and the people love you!”

It’s just after midnight when I walk into my apartment. I know I look like hell. I’m wearing another torn shirt, and I’ve got a bruised hand to go with my busted lip. Icing it helped some, but I’m going to look strange in the office tomorrow.

As I step into the living room, I surprise Sophie, who quickly flips her tablet face down