Night shifts black

“Whew. It’s hot in here, huh?” he says, holding the glass up to his forehead. I know he’s just trying to explain away the sudden retreat, but I’m not buying it.

“Is everything ok? Is it your ex-girlfriend?” I ask.

He looks confused, then laughs. “Jana? No.”

“Oh, I see. So it’s me. I’m just a terrible dancer.”

He grins again. “Yes, that’s it.” Then grows serious when I refuse to let him off the hook.

“You don’t want to sleep with me, Callie,” he states bluntly.

I almost choke on my water. “What?”

He shrugs. “Am I wrong? Is that where you wanted that to go?”

“We can’t dance without sleeping together?”

He shrugs. “You tell me. Would you have let me kiss you out there?”

I look away, starting to understand. “Probably.”

“You would have. And you would have loved it,” he adds with a glint that somehow makes the boast sweet instead of obnoxious. His smile fades as he shakes his head. “Anyway, this isn’t your scene. I’m trying to remember that. The normal rules don’t apply.”

I swallow and look away. There it is. I’m filled with some strange mix of embarrassment, anger, gratitude, and admiration. I certainly hadn’t expected Casey Barrett of Night Shifts Black to play the gentleman, and I don’t know how to thank him without admitting he’s right, I don’t belong here. I certainly don’t belong with him.

Then, my eyes catch a glimpse of Luke, and I forget all about the awkward moment. Casey senses my shift and follows my gaze across the room. Distracted, I miss his reaction as my stomach turns at the sight of Luke surrounded by three women, all clearly from a magazine cover. Their hands run over his body as they move in sync with the music. Even in the dim light, I can see that he’s wasted. The women may be dancing, but he’s just trying to stay upright. I notice they’re practically supporting him, his other hand braced against the wall. One of the models pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, and he laughs for a second before her mouth covers his. They all move in, shoving him into the wall. I can barely see him anymore.

Tears burn my eyes as I stare in shocked horror. I don’t know what to do. He’s so out of it, he can’t possibly be making this choice. And yet, I know somehow he made this choice the second he decided to “have some people over.” This is his world. Like he said. This is what he meant. This is what he wanted. This is today’s escape from the emotional scars. My efforts aren’t enough anymore.

“He doesn’t care about them,” Casey says gently. “I doubt he even knows them.”

I nod, completely numb. That doesn’t make me feel any better as I’m torn between ru

“He’s completely wasted. He can barely stand.”

Casey nods. “Yeah. Believe me, they wouldn’t have a shot otherwise. He doesn’t fool around like that anymore.”

My gaze shoots to him in alarm. “Wait, what are you saying?”

He shrugs, but doesn’t seem nearly as distressed as I am. “Huh? I’m not saying anything.”

“Shouldn’t we do something?” I cry.

Now, he’s totally confused. “Do what?”

I glance back at the small circle and observe with concern that it’s moving away from the crowd. I can’t breathe. They’re going back to his room.

“Casey! This isn’t him! We can’t just let him do this!”

“Do what? What are you so upset about?” Casey is clearly a

“That! They’re taking him back to his room!”

“Taking him? You act like he doesn’t want to be alone with three models. He’s a big boy, Callie. He can handle himself.”

Casey pops another bottle of champagne as if to prove how ridiculous I’m being. “Here, have another drink.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “No, this isn’t like him. Something’s wrong!”

Casey laughs, and I glare at him. “This is exactly like him, sweetheart. That’s what I tried to tell you at breakfast. You don’t actually know him. The guy you know is very different than the real Luke Craven.”

He softens when he sees my expression and sighs. “Look, you’re a very sweet girl. I totally understand why Luke wants you in his life, and I’m sure you’re really good for him, but he’s not good for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “Luke is a force. He’s my brother and I love him, but you’re lying to yourself if you think you’re going to fix him before he destroys you.”

I stare at him in shock, in anger. “You really think so little of your ‘brother?’” I mock.

He raises his eyebrows before letting out an irritated laugh. “Whatever, hon. Good luck with that,” he smirks, grabbing his bottle and leaving me to my craziness.

I glare after him, a

I glance back down the hallway toward the bedrooms, but Luke and his models are long gone. Then, suddenly, I don’t care anymore. I don’t need to fit in here. I don’t have to impress Casey Barrett, or that man with the fake glasses by the door, or the woman with the thousand dollar shoes. I’m not here for them.

I jump up from my stool and march down the hallway toward Luke’s room. I can hear the sounds as I approach, the giggling, the purring, and it makes me sick, angry. I don’t knock, I don’t care if Luke’s mad at me, and push through the door.

Three shocked faces greet me, then convert to a scowl.

“Occupied,” one of them spits.

I ignore her and try to peer past them to the body beneath them. Luke is still conscious, but the look in his eyes is not one I recognize. In fact, I’m not sure he recognizes anything.

“He’s obviously out of it. I think you’re done here,” I hiss.

“Really? I think you should mind your own business, hon,” another woman barks.

“Hon? I’m not the one climbing all over a guy who’s practically unconscious. What, he wouldn’t touch you sober?”

She looks ready to explode, but clearly has no interest in wasting her highly valuable time fighting with a nobody like me.

“Who are you anyway?”

“I’m his cousin,” I lie.

And they laugh. I expected as much, but I don’t care. This isn’t about me.

“Right. So are we.”

I cross my arms, making it clear I’m not leaving. They can stand here and waste their night arguing, or go have fun with someone else. They glare at me as they climb off the bed and begin gathering their garments from around the room. Finally, they’re dressed enough to return to the party and start filing out, each one shredding me with her eyes as she passes.

“He invited us back here. It was his idea,” the last one mutters.

“I’m sure he did. Have a nice time. Enjoy the hors d-oeuvres,” I reply evenly with mock politeness.

I close the door behind them and approach Luke slowly. He’s completely naked, and has tried to push himself up on the bed with little success. He falls back to the sheets, eyes closed.

“Where…” There’s some question in the string of sounds that follows, but I have no idea what it is.

“Do you even know their names, Luke?” I ask, more to myself than him, since I doubt he could answer me even if he did.

I don’t think I can handle the intimate act of dressing him at the moment, so I simply pull the blanket up to his waist. He’s sweating, and I can see he’s already too warm to completely cover him. I move to his bathroom and return with a wet rag, placing it on his forehead. He flinches and his face contorts into a brief grimace before he fades completely from consciousness. Concerned, I lean close, but hear his steady breathing. My stomach starts to constrict when I wonder what his “guests” would have done at this point if I hadn’t followed them. I think about what Casey had said. How could this really be what Luke wanted?