The Infatuation (Josh and Kat #1 , The Club #5) (12 page)

“I’ve seen The Strip in movies,” Sarah says, “but I
bet it’s really cool in person.”

I glance at the bar and spy a bottle of my favorite
champagne chilling on ice. “Oh, champagne!” I squeal. This day just
keeps getting better and better.

“I’ll get you a glass,” Jonas says, moving
gracefully toward the bar.

There’s a loud knock at the door to the suite. “Open
up, you beast!”

Oh my God. Every hair on my body stands on end.
He’s here.
Shit. I wish I’d checked my makeup before heading
up to Jonas and Sarah’s room. Gah. “Do I look okay?” I whisper to
Sarah. I bare my teeth. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”

Sarah grins broadly. “You look perfect,” she says.
“He’ll be putty in your hands.”

Jonas opens the door and there he is, the Playboy
himself, dressed in a designer suit perfectly tailored to his
muscled frame, standing next to a much smaller, kind of
nerdy-looking guy in a V-neck T-shirt and goatee.

Holy shitballs. My chest constricts at the sight of
Josh’s utter deliciousness.

Was he always this hot?

I’ve ogled countless photos of Josh on the Internet
since I first met him at Jonas’ house two weeks ago, but absolutely
no two-dimensional simulation of the man comes even close to
capturing his magnetism. He’s oozing raw masculinity, even in that
expensive suit. In fact, the sophistication of his clothes somehow
emphasizes the brute swagger hiding underneath the fabric. Oh my
fucking God. This man is sex on a designer stick.

“You ready?” Sarah whispers.

I nod. “Let’s do it.”

She grabs my hand and we bounce happily over to the
guys.

Oh shit, I’m trembling. What the hell’s gotten into
me? I never act this way. I feel like a schoolgirl with a
crush.

“Hey, Party Girl with a Hyphen,” Josh says, his eyes
sparkling wickedly.

“Well, hey yourself, Playboy,” I say, sounding
remarkably collected, I must say. “It’s a crazy, fucked up world
when a Playboy and a Party Girl cross paths in
Vegas
, huh?”
He bursts out laughing and I join him. “It’s good to see you
again,” I say. Wow, I sound like I hardly give a shit. Sometimes I
amaze even myself.

Josh wraps me in a huge hug and kisses me on both
cheeks and I practically melt into his strong arms. Oh my God, his
cologne is divine. Was he wearing that cologne the first night I
met him? It’s deadly.

I kiss him softly on the cheek and the sensation of
his skin under my lips makes my skin sizzle and pop.

He puts his hand on my cheek and brings his lips to
my ear. “You look gorgeous, Party Girl,” he whispers.

“Uh,” I say. Oh my God. I can’t even think. Is it
possible he’s gotten even
better-looking
than he was two
weeks ago?

Josh grins. “You ready to find out how this story
ends, Party Girl?” He rubs his thumb along my cheek.

Before I can reply, the hipster guy standing next to
Josh makes a weird noise, like a horse rejecting a saddle, and I
suddenly realize I haven’t introduced myself. I train my full
attention on the hipster-nerd-guy and extend my hand, ignoring the
fact that my cheek is still tingling where Josh just touched me.
“Hi, I’m Katherine Morgan,” I say. “But everyone calls me Kat.”

“Oh. Huh. Hi. See. I’m ... Nice... fleb beet
you.”

“What?” I laugh.

“Hennessey. But... calls... Henn. Me. Calls. Henn.
Everyone. Me.”

Jonas bursts out laughing from behind me and the
hipster guy’s face turns beet red. Oh my gosh, this hacker dude’s
the most adorable human I’ve ever met. I’m already in deep,
irreversible like with him. Without even thinking about it, I wrap
him in a huge hug and kiss his cheek. He looks like he could break
into beat poetry at any given moment. Adorbs! I want to take him
home and put him in a rhinestone jacket and feed him treats. “I’m
so excited to meet you, Henn,” I say. I kiss him on the cheek again
and his face turns the color of a vine-ripened tomato.

“Kat, stop treating Henn like a Chihuahua,” Sarah
says. “Henn, tell her to stop assaulting you.”

I laugh and release the poor guy. “Sorry, Henn,” I
say. “I’m impulsive. I should have warned you. Sometimes, I just
can’t control myself.” I glance at Josh on that last comment and
his eyebrows drift up, every so slightly.

Henn nods and mumbles something adorably
incoherent.

“Time for alcohol!!” Josh booms. “I always say, ‘If
a guy doesn’t drink, he must be a total fucking tool.’ Or, at the
very least, he’s just fucking
boring
.” He shoots me a
smart-ass grin and strides to the bar. “Don’t you agree, Kat?”

I twist my mouth, trying desperately not to smile.
“Not necessarily,” I say. “Sometimes, it just means a guy is
disciplined.
”

Josh scoffs. He refills my champagne glass and then
Sarah’s and grabs three beers from the fridge. “Oh yeah,” he says,
snapping his fingers like he’s just remembered something important.
He opens the first of the bottles and hands it to Jonas. “I’ve also
heard from several
extremely
reliable sources that guys who
don’t drink also make limp-dick-shitty-ass lovers.”

“Really?” Henn asks.

“Yup.”

“Well, jeez,” Henn says. “Hand me a beer, then.
Pronto
. And a couple shots.”

Josh hands Henn a beer, his eyes still trained on
me, his expression clearly saying, “Don’t fuck with me, little
girl—you’re out of your depths.”

I look away. Holy shitballs, Josh Faraday is sexy as
hell.

The five of us move to the black leather couches in
the sitting area and make ourselves comfortable—and I gotta say
when Josh Faraday makes himself comfortable, it’s a sight to
behold: he leans back, spreads his strong legs, and
unapologetically adjusts his dick in his pants.

“I’m shocked you splurged on this place, bro,” Josh
says, glancing around the room. “So un-Jonas-like of you.”

“Would you stop telling me what’s Jonas- or
un-Jonas-like of me already? Apparently, you have no idea what I’m
like.”

Josh laughs. “Apparently not.”

I bite my lip.
Sexy man. Sexy man. Sexy man.
I can’t think straight.

Henn opens the browser on his computer and logs into
some application-program-thing.

“Okay, folks. I’ve got an update on the Oksana sitch
you had me working on.”

“Fantastic,” Jonas says, rubbing his hands
together.

We all crowd around Henn’s laptop—and when I bend
over to get a good look at Henn’s screen, Josh rests his hand on
the small of my back. Oh my God, his touch is drawing every ounce
of blood from my brain into the three square inches of flesh under
his palm. Holy Hotness, Batman, I can barely process what Henn’s
saying right now. It seems to be something about someone named
Oksana Belenko.

“Sounds like an Olympic ice skater, doesn’t she?”
Henn says, but I’m barely listening. Josh’s hand has moved from the
small of my back to the curve of my hip. Holy shitballs. Nuclear
energy is wafting off Josh’s body just a few inches from mine.

“Boom shakalaka,” Henn says, showing us something on
his screen.

“See? Fucking genius,” Josh says. His hand returns
to the small of my back, where it begins making little swirling
motions.

“You sure that’s our girl?” Sarah asks.

Henn explains why he’s sure he’s got the right
Oksana.

“So that means we’ve got a confirmed physical
address?” Sarah asks.

“Yep.”

“Wow,” Sarah says. She pauses, the gears apparently
turning inside her head. “So it sounds like Oksana supplies the
girls for The Club—” She looks at Josh. “Or, if you’d prefer, the
Mickey Mouse roller coasters.”

Sarah and I simultaneously burst out laughing and
Josh straightens up, abruptly removing his swirling hand from my
back.

“It was an
analogy
,” he says, looking
genuinely annoyed.

“We know, Joshie, we know,” Sarah says, winking at
him. “But it’s still funny.” She looks at me and makes a
ridiculously cute cartoon-face and I burst out laughing again. God,
I love Sarah. Relief floods me yet again to have her safe and
sound.

“Yeah, Oksana’s like this frickin’ old-school
madam,
” Henn says. “Probably not the brains behind all the
tech stuff.”

“She’s probably got a business partner who handles
the tech side of things,” Jonas says.

“Definitely,” Henn agrees. “And whoever that person
is, he or she knows exactly what the hell they’re doing. Because
there’s no finding these guys by accident. And even then,” Henn
continues, sipping his beer, “their storefront is just a shell.
Their real shit’s gotta be buried way down in the Deep Web. And
that’s a scary place.”

“What’s the Deep Web?” I ask.

Henn grins broadly at me.

“Is that a stupid question?” I ask, blushing.

“Oh no, not stupid at all. I’m just so used to
hanging out with computer geeks all day long, I forget normal
people don’t know about this stuff.” He smiles at me again. “I’m
glad you don’t know what it is. It means you’re probably a
well-adjusted, happy person.”

I laugh. “I am, as a matter of fact.”

“I can tell,” Henn says. “Happiness is a very
attractive quality in a person.”

“Thank you,” I say. My eyes flicker to Josh and I’m
shocked to see he’s already staring at me—looking at me like he
wants to fuck my brains out, actually. My skin sizzles and pops,
yet again.

Josh clears his throat. “So, guys, before Henn
launches into The Grand Story of the Deep Web, how about we all do
a shot of Patron? We’re in Vegas, after all—when in Rome.”

“Sounds like a fabulous idea to me,” I say. “Do we
have Patron in the bar?”

“Of course,” Jonas says. “I made sure of it. My
brother is nothing if not predictable.”

Josh strides purposefully behind the bar, grace in
motion, flashing me a come-hither stare as he goes.

I feel like he’s pulling me on a string. “I’ll help
you out, Playboy,” I blurt, bounding over to the bar.

“Why, thanks, Party Girl,” Josh says.

I stand next to him in the bar and lean into him,
involuntarily drawn to his sheer physicality. He leans his muscled
body into mine and whispers softly in my ear. “You ready to cut the
middle bullshit yet, Party Girl—see how this story ends?”

“That depends. Are you ready to give me your
application?”

He laughs. “I told you—I don’t negotiate with
terrorists.”

“Well, then. I guess not.”

Josh

“You’re freaking me out, Henn,” Kat says.

She’s responding to Henn—he’s just finished
explaining the difference between the Surface Web (the “Internet we
all know and love” where anyone can “Google a sushi restaurant”)
and the Deep Web (the “ink-black waters below the surface” where
“jihadists and drug warlords and fucking human traffickers”
operate)—and it’s obvious from Kat’s facial expression she’s
completely horrified by what she’s just heard.

“How have I never heard of this before?” Kat asks.
“Have you heard about this, Sarah?”

Sarah shakes her head, exactly the way Goofy would.
I can’t help but chuckle at the sight of her. The more I get to
know this girl, the more I love her. She’s smart and sweet and a
total ass-kicker, on the one hand, and yet the dorkiest, goofiest
girl I’ve ever met on the other. I don’t think I’ve met anyone
quite like her before—and I’ve especially never met anyone better
suited for my brother.

“Kinda freaks you out when you hear about it for the
first time, huh?” Henn says.

“Totally,” Kat agrees. “It reminds me of when I
found out there are trillions of invisible microbes on my skin at
all times.”

“Please don’t talk about that whole
microbes-on-your-skin thing,” I say. “That always creeps me
out.”

Kat bursts out laughing and I join her. It’s easy to
laugh when Kat does—the girl laughs like a dude.

Henn continues his tutorial, explaining in detail
how he only uses his hacking-superpowers for good. “I leave no
trace, take nothing, do no harm,” Henn says, “unless I’m being paid
to leave a trace, take something, do harm, of course. But I only do
that kind of thing when I’m positive I work for the good guys.”

“But how do you know you’re working for the good
guys?” Jonas asks, clearly skeptical. “Everyone thinks their cause
is righteous. Hence, the concept of war.”

I’m about to jump in and defend Henn, but he clearly
doesn’t need my help.

“Well, yes, of course.” Henn looks right at Kat and
flashes what I imagine he’s hoping is a charming smile. “But let me
show you how I tell the good guys from the bad guys.” He looks
right at Sarah. “Sarah, are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

“A good guy,” Sarah says.

“And there you go.”

Sarah shrugs like it makes perfect sense. “And there
you go,” she says.

Jonas is clearly not impressed. “But who would ever
say they’re one of the bad guys? Who would even
think
that
about themselves? People are brilliant at justifying their actions
to themselves—trust me, I should know.”

“Well,
yeah
,” Henn concedes. “But I don’t
always
believe
people when they say they’re one of the good
guys. In fact, I rarely do. If I
believe
them, the way I
just believed Miss Cruz here, then that’s good enough for me.”

“Aw, you believe me, Henn?” Sarah asks.

“I do. Indubitably.”

“Why, thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Sometimes, it’s a no-brainer,” Henn continues.
“Like when a job comes from Josh, for example, I always know I’m
fighting for truth and justice and the American way, no questions
asked. Because a guy can set his moral compass to Josh—he’s
always
one of the good guys, through and through.”

Thank you, Henn.

Now
here’s
a guy who’s got a brother’s back,
unlike Jonas. I glare at my stupid brother, sending him a nonverbal
“fuck you” for the way he let me twist in the wind in front of Kat
the other day—but Jonas is too engrossed in staring at Sarah like a
lovesick puppy to notice me.