The Perfect Fit
: Chapter 5

Jen half laughs, half shrieks as we both stare at the guy sprawled on the floor at our feet, out cold. “Holy fuck, Lils.” The people who were crowded around the bar have stepped back and everyone is now ogling and pointing at us.

Dammit. I just reacted. I didn’t mean to knock his ass out, but he shouldn’t have grabbed mine. But we’re going to get kicked out of this fancy club, and Jen will be so disappointed. Bouncers are making their way toward us, their heads bobbing above the crowd.

“I’m really sorry,” I blurt as soon as they’re close enough to hear me. “But he—”

“Miss, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” One of the bouncers grabs my arm.

“Take your fucking hands off her. Now.” The deep voice cuts through the noise and the hand on my arm disappears.

“Apologies, Mr. Cavanagh,” the bouncer mumbles.

I look up to see the same dark eyes from earlier today in the lobby. Oh my god, what’s he doing here? I swallow the knot of anxiety clogging my throat, but I’m unable to keep my body from trembling.

He glances at the guy on the floor. “Get that piece of shit out of here and don’t let him back in ever again. You hear me?”

“Yes, Mr. Cavanagh,” another bouncer replies.

Jen stares at me with her mouth hanging open, and all I can do is shrug at her. I have no idea what the hell’s going on either. The stranger steps closer to me, his dark eyes burning into mine.

“I-I, h-he grabbed me.”

He frowns. “I saw. Are you okay?”

I nod, my tongue darting out to moisten my dry lips. “I’m fine.”

“You have a habit of getting into trouble wherever you go, Lily?” he asks.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“You met a couple friends of mine today,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Oh, wow. He’s Ezekiel freaking Cavanagh, business partner of West Archer and Xander King.

“Before you recklessly tried to mow me down in the lobby of my building,” he adds.

“What? I did not.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, and damn, it makes him even more intimidating than he was a few seconds earlier. He’s teasing me. Jackass. “At least let me buy you and your friend here a drink for the inconvenience of having to do our bouncer’s jobs for them.”

“You don’t have to. We’re good,” I say, taking Jen’s arm and signaling we should head to another part of the club.

Jen stays rooted to the spot, her gaze trained on Ezekiel. “I’d love a drink.” She flutters her eyelashes, and that smirk of his grows wider. Oh, I see what this is now. He’s into Jen. Most guys are. She’s stunning.

“Come join us at our table.” He nods toward the private booths on the balcony—the ones that cost upward of ten thousand dollars a night to sit at.

“Ooh, yes please.” Jen glances at me and silently claps her hands together, and I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. I guess we’re going to his fancy-ass booth then.

Jen’s kneeling on the plush velvet bench and peering down at the crowd. “Wow! It is freaking incredible up here. You can see everything.”

“You sure can,” the guy from the elevator today, who I now realize is Xander King, says with a grin.

She turns to face him and flashes him her killer smile. From the moment she saw Xander sitting in this booth, Ezekiel—or Zeke, as he introduced himself—has been well and truly sidelined. I can’t say I blame her. Xander is ridiculously hot. Like you’d walk down the street behind him drooling at his ass hot. Not that Zeke isn’t every bit as alluring, but in a different way. Dark and dangerous and brooding. The ultimate bad guy. But where’s West Archer, the devil himself? Also known as the third member of their Unholy Trinity, which is what my colleagues call the three men who are about to take over Grayson News Corp, the company I work for. At least that’s what the rumor mill’s been saying.

Zeke pours a glass of champagne and hands it to me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.”

Those dark eyes narrow, and I scoot back a little as I murmur my thanks and take a sip. I feel like he’s trying to see into my soul, and all he’ll see in there are the things I keep hidden. “Do you know every single person who comes to this club?”

He shakes his head and laughs. The sound is dark and unnerving, and it sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. “But I would definitely remember you.”

I suck in a stuttered breath. Is he flirting with me? No. He’s an absurdly sexy billionaire. I’m dreaming. I must be.

“Lily?” A voice cuts through the steady thrum of the club. My pulse races as I drink in the delectable sight of West Archer. The devil himself, looking sexier than hell in a perfectly tailored suit and a crisp white shirt. I knock back the entire glass of champagne and hope for the second time today that he doesn’t recognize me as the ten-year-old girl he met all those years ago.