He steps in front of me, blocking my path as I try to escape. Now, I’m starting to see red.

I’ve underestimated the old timer. He’s faster than he looks. And though I may have been a pansy-ass about Lukas all night, I certainly won’t cower to this “cant-take-a-hint” geezer.

“I do mind, actually,” he continues. “I’ve been watching you all night, and I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more than a dance with you.”

He pauses, extending a hand. “You might enjoy it, too.”

I’m done being polite. “Doubtful, Mister…Whoever-You-Are… but I will tell you this: You’re pushing your luck… and any second my…”

“Boyfriend is going to be here.”

I stop and turn to face the solid wall that now sits at my back. It’s Lukas.

All six feet of him. Standing directly behind me.

“Sorry it took so long, baby.” He hands me a drink. “The bar got really crowded.”

I nearly stammer. “Don’t worry. I was just telling this… fine gentleman about you.”

“Ah, I see. Well, that was very thoughtful of you.”

Lukas circles around me, standing between the other man and me. He clasps a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Beat it, Pops.”

He gives a slight head nod to the persistent prick who’s still standing there dumbfounded, and then he turns to me, effectually dismissing the embarrassed man and his advances.

I stifle a chuckle. Lukas smiles at me.

A real smile. No dentures.

His dark hair is slightly tousled, and the shadowy stubble on his face frames perfectly white teeth.

His silent charm is rubbing off on me, and I’m doing everything I can to not give in.

“I saw you needed help,” he declares. “I came to save you.”

I give an incredulous laugh. “Save me? I didn’t need saving.”

“I overheard,” he says. “You started to say that any second…”

“’My knee would be in his balls.’ That’s how I was going to end that sentence.”

I lean into my glass, trying to hide the gratitude that’s on my face. As thankful as I am for his small interference, I know better than to lose my wits.

Owing Lukas Griffin will undoubtedly come with a hefty payment, and it’s the type of debt that I can’t afford to have him collect.

I keep my face stoic while he watches me.

“Touché, Miss Lexington. Tou-fucking-ché.” He takes a sip of his drink, grinning casually.

“Well, since you seem to have everything over here handled, I think I’ll go rescue some real damsels in distress.”

My heart stops at his implication… but I shrug.

“Be my guest.”

His stare turns smoldering. “I will.” He steps away.

I watch him go.

I let go of a shaky breath when he’s far enough way. I don’t see him again for what seems like the rest of the night.

A Rook-ie Mistake

My opponents make good moves too. Sometimes I don't take these things into consideration.  -  Bobby Fischer

ELENA

 

After Lukas leaves, I resign myself to actually having some fun.

I dance. I dally. I drink.

A LOT.

There seems to be a surgically irremovable glass of liquor in my hands at all times, and I am casually entertaining so many people that one might even mistake me as the “life of the party”—which I never am.

I don’t even recognize myself.

My world has been turned upside—unwittingly flipped by my new uprooting, my new career goals… my new “family.”

First, the addition of Foxx—now, Griff, and honestly… I just don’t know the rules to this.

Am I supposed to treat him like family? Invite him over for barbeque and beer?

He’s like a brother to Brendon. How the hell am I supposed to act?

***

LUKAS

 

“Stop staring at her,” Chris says to me, knocking his knuckles against my chest.

I feign ignorance, peering at him over the lip of my quickly disappearing scotch. “What are you talking about?”

“Elena. Stop staring at her. You’ve been gawking all night. I know when you’re eyeing someone. Just like you used to gape at Becky Fletcher in eighth grade. You’re not as stealthy as you think you are.”

I shrug with a laugh, sitting my empty scotch glass on a nearby waiter’s tray.

“Delusion is a sickness, Chris. You might want to see someone about that.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “I already see someone about my anxiety-based delusions, Griff; this is not one of them. I know you. I know when you’re scoping someone out. Even if no one else can see it.”

“The only thing you might see in my eyes is irritation. I’m tired of this dark liquor. I need something white. And I am not scoping out Elena.”

I try to play it cool.

“Besides… I’ve never nabbed a girl with short hair before. What would I hold onto?” I smirk, dismissing Chris’s accusation.

“If you’re as good as you say you are, Griff… you’ll figure it out.”

“Damn straight,” I say, toasting him with an invisible glass.

“Except…” Chris begins.

“Except what?”

“I don’t know, bro. This Elena, man… She’s different…”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Different how?”

“I don’t know… Can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something different about her… and Kat. These Lexington women… they don’t come cheap.”

“So, what are you saying, Chris?”

“I’m saying that this won’t be as easy as you think. You remember the few things Foxx did tell us about her, don’t you?”

I squint harder, placing a hand in my pants pocket. “Yeah, I do. Something about Elena being hard as nails… a real ball-breaker or something like that…”

“’Ball-breaker?’” Chris guffaws out loud. “He said any man’s nuts will be able to fit through a flour sifter by the time Elena’s done with them.”

He winces, looking conspicuously down at his family jewels.

“Ahhh¸ but you’re missing one important thing here, Mr. Johnson,” I say, sliding an arm around his shoulders. “I’m not just any man. This is me—Lukas Griffin you’re talking about.

“Surely you haven’t forgotten my, uh… special skills.”

He laughs. “Not going to lie, Griff. When it comes to women, you’re the master at bagging the best. I’ve never seen someone have ‘em eating out of the palm of their hands the way you do, but… I’m just saying…”

“Say no more, Chris. Just let me handle Elena… that is, if I decide to even give it a go…”

Chris shrugs. “Whatever you say, man. Can’t say I didn’t warn you…”

His eyes look over my shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a dance with the pretty redhead in the corner.”

He passes his drink to me, flashing me a mocking smile. “Good luck.” He takes off into the crowd, heading towards the furthest nook of the room.

I frown at his retreating back. Luck? My ego scoffs. Hmph. I don’t need luck.

Forget being the Master; I’ve got a goddamned PhD in women. I can have any woman I want in this room. I glance at the long legs under the red dress.

With the exception of maybe one—the most difficult one. Every man in here wants her—including me—and I’m doing my damnedest not to show it.

I down what’s left of Chris’s drink. No. Fuck that. Nabbing Elena is definitely a challenge… but I have never (and I do mean never) backed down from one. And I sure as hell am not going to start now.

I head towards that red dress when a hand snakes out of the crowd, gripping me tightly.

“Looking for me?” she hisses seductively. She pulls me into her, leaving me no choice but to gaze into her eager eyes. Her glossy tendrils are framing her face, her dark hair pulled up into a high, messy bun.

She’s as beautiful as she’s ever been, but her features are hardened, made grotesque by the unhinged look emanating from her wide, green irises.