“Edward? There’s a wrap party for the movie in two days,” Bella said meekly. “Jacob is insisting that I go. It’s going to be at the Voyeur Club. It’s a swanky club where live art is displayed. It kind of goes along with Metropolis. Alcohol, drugs and sex.”
“Will there be drugs?” I asked.
“Probably not broadcasted, but I think so,” Bella said. “I’ll be good. I don’t want you having to deal me trying to grab your crotch since I’m a handsy drunk and flirtatious drug addict.”
“Bella, that’s why I was hired. To ensure no one tries to take advantage of you. If that means you grab my junk in a drunken stupor, I’ll deal with it,” I said with a tight smile. Though, I’d rather you be grabbing at it while you’re sober. God, I need to stop this line of thinking. It’ll never happen. It shouldn’t happen. Bella is too much for me.
“Maybe I’ll act drunk to cop a feel,” she said, linking her arm with mine.
“Bella,” I warned, arching a brow.
“I’m kidding, Masen. Jesus,” she snickered, poking my side. “Ugh. My feet.”
“What’s wrong with your feet?”
“Those damn hooker heels are evil. My feet are killing me,” she grumbled.
I stopped and crouched in front of her. “Hop on, Gimpy,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to bitch the entire way to the car.” She gave me a wet willy before she hopped on my back, piggy-back style. Her arms were wrapped around my neck and her breathing was right by my left ear.“Thank you, Edward,” she whispered, kissing my jaw.