Lincoln by S. Nelson

Author:S. Nelson [Nelson, S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S. Nelson

An hour and a half later, after two additional drinks and three cold pieces of pizza, I was the bravest I’d ever been. Two hot guys seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, and for once, I didn’t fear they had an agenda or had thoughts for harming me in any way.

The more alcohol I drank, the more curious I became, asking them all sorts of personal questions. I learned that Ace’s real name was Jaime, that he grew up in foster care, and he got his nickname from playing poker. Cards was his way of hustling people before he joined this club, his way in being he went to school with Kaden, two years ahead of him to be exact. Ace loved to talk, as was evident with all the information he told me. Brick, on the other hand, refused to tell me his real name. I suspected he didn’t like it much. But he did tell me that he used to be a bouncer at one of the strip clubs they owned. Oh, and that he was thirty.

Trigger checked on me from time to time, reminding Ace and Brick to behave themselves, to which they would simply nod, occasionally tossing a wary glance at each other. Or, at least, that was my interpretation of the look they shared.

“My tongue is numb.” I laughed, smacking my lips together to make a weird sound.

“That’s because Trigger poured quite a few shots for you,” Ace replied, shaking his head at me when my mouth popped open dramatically.

“I didn’t have any shots.”

“What do you think is in your drinks?” When I stared at him like the proverbial deer in headlights, his grin got bigger, that damn dimple popping out. Or should I say sinking in? “Vodka.” He answered his own question. I stuck my finger in the remainder of my drink, pulled it out and put the digit in my mouth.

“It’s good,” I said, draining the rest of the contents. Trigger was back in front of me with another, only this time the color of the concoction was clear.

“It’s water. You gotta drink up or else you’re gonna have a nasty headache later.” The old guy walked away to tend to something else, leaving the tall glass of water a fingertip’s reach from me.

“You’re not feelin’ any pain, are ya?” Brick asked, leaning closer, his scent infiltrating my senses and making my head swoon. He smelled good.

“Nope. And I gotta tell ya,” I mumbled, slapping his arm. “It’s refreshing.”

“At least here, you don’t have to worry—”

“Shit!” Ace groaned on the other side of me.

“What?” his buddy asked, never finishing his sentence.

“Linc.” Ace pointed toward the door. “He’s comin’ over here and he doesn’t look happy.”

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