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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.

Trina. “Trin,” I call her like I used to. “Hi. No, actually… “ I stall. “I’m only looking for the head. Gotta take a leak.”

My voice is gruff: clipped. I’m not looking to be near her any longer than I have to. I pull slyly out of her grasp, taking a step in the opposite direction.

“No way, handsome,” she coos, tugging me full-circle back into her body. “I deserve a dance. It’s the least you can give me, don’t you think?”

I stiffen.

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s been over for Trina and me for a long time, but I guess I always knew that she got the shitty end of the stick.

I knew I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship when we first hooked up; I told her so right away.

When she got too clingy, I ended it as amicably as anybody really could in those circumstances, but she never really got the picture, no matter how clear I’d been.

I scan the dance floor for Elena again, but she’s gone, those long legs and blonde hair missing from the spot that she once occupied.

I turn back to Trina, swallowing a lump in my throat.

I’ve dumped a lot of girls in my time, but this is the only one that I feel guilty about. Trina used to be a nice girl; I should’ve never gotten involved with her.

“Ok,” I relent with a nod. “One dance won’t kill me.”

She grabs onto my palms, wrapping my arms around her. “I make no promises, Mr. Griffin.” And then we start to move.

The band starts to play “The Girl from Ipanema” and Trina begins to sway seductively. I’m no slouch on the dance floor. I lead, spinning her skillfully as we swing on the beat.

But she’s clutching me just a bit too tight and sliding just a tad too close. I back up by a step.

“Watch it, Trina. You’re going to get us in trouble.” I smile, trying to thwart her unwanted advances.

She gives a high-pitched giggle, grabbing onto me. She brings her face close to mine, whispering. “Oh, Griff. I am the trouble.”

I stare into her eyes, mesmerized. Those wide, green irises. They aren’t just wide. They’re dilated: unnaturally and inexplicably large.

She’s as high as a kite.

I grab her shoulders. “Trina…”

She digs her nails into my arms, standing on her tiptoes to try to kiss me. I dodge her lips.

“Trina,” I grab her harder. “Listen to me…”

But she doesn’t. She puts a finger on my lips, nearly into my mouth. “You’ve been avoiding me all night, Griff…”

I snatch her finger. “I haven’t even seen you all night, but I would have avoided you because of...”

“Me.” The voice over my shoulder startles me, and I turn to find piercing blue eyes staring back at me.

Elena reaches out, prying Trina’s small fingers from around my stiffened arm.

“I’m his girlfriend… Trina,” she spouts mockingly. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d give him some air to breathe and some space to dance with his actual partner.

“And might I suggest you hit the ladies’ room while you give us room? You’ve got a little snow under your nose there.”

Trina scowls, stepping away from the both of us with a heated glance. Elena slips into the circle of my arms where Trina just was.