The DJ playing tonight works the Euro club circuits. I've heard of him, but I don't often come to clubs like this. Will and Nate happily hold court in the centre of the dance floor, girls around. If fun is on the agenda, they'll be there, whatever the music. I'm more specific about genres. I'd rather spend a sweaty night with a poorly tuned rock band than a full night of clubbing. Still, free flowing booze and girls, I'm not complaining.

Tegan likes the music and ambience, enthusiastically dancing with a group she's befriended. Tegan's on the edge, but under scrutiny; a couple of the group are guys and I keep an eye on whether either of them touch her. Amused, I watch as Tegan skillfully dodges any attempt by the taller guy who's intent on taking hold of her hands. Where the h.e.l.l is Bryn? Surely, I'm not the only one he wants keeping away from his sister?

As the lights play across her body, I'm distracted by the movement of her a.s.s in the clinging dress, and the way the material moves up her thighs as she dances. I have a girl with me who I'm positive would do anything I asked, but all I want is my hands on Tegan. Why the f.u.c.k does she have to be out of bounds?

"Jax..." Sofia licks my neck and as her teeth close around my earlobe, I'm pulled away from Tegan daydreams.

I slide my hand down into Sofia's, and indicate I'm leaving the dance floor and tug her back to the table.

"Not here," she whispers. "Come." Sofia pulls me in the direction of a quieter spot. "So we can talk."

We both know talking isn't on the agenda.

TEGAN.

Why did Bryn come tonight? He said he hates this kind of music and always has. Liam's displeasure was clear as the pair of them skulked off to the quiet tables near the bar. Was this all to supervise me?

Escaping his unwanted scrutiny, I chat to a group of people, friends and colleagues from a local ad agency. We soon switch from swapping stories to dancing; the music too loud for conversation. Unlike the student nights at my local clubs, there's no immediate hitting on each other, just the enjoyment of the music and atmosphere. This is refreshing after my last few nights out in London where every guy I met started the will-she-won't-she bulls.h.i.t and ruined the evening. I never understood the idea that a successful night out includes picking someone up; the time should be fun with friends.

I position myself away from the Ruby Riot guys as I dance with the group, and keep my back to Jax and his hook up. I tell one of the guys, Tomas, that I'm taking a break from dancing, and he gives me the thumbs up. I head off the dance floor. Jax is no longer around.

Pulling my damp hair from my neck and twisting it into a high ponytail, I locate the bathrooms. The queue stretches back further than I'd like and as I only want to cool down, I decide to check out the balcony area outside. The club overlooks the river and despite the late January cool, I love the idea of the night time view across Lisbon.

Giggling alerts me as I head along the darker hallway to the stairs, and in the shadows, a guy rests against the wall, hands beneath the dress of the girl pressed against him. Right, maybe not so different to the clubs back home. Averting my eyes, I continue, but when the giggling is followed by the girl saying "Jax" I halt.

Jax and random pick-up devour each other, although amusingly, she seems to be doing most of the devouring. He's slumped against the wall, not at full height, a look I've seen in clubs the world over. He's drunk.

They continue their pa.s.sionate clinch, and I grimace. Dry humping in public is tacky. At least I hope that's what they're doing. Deciding I don't want to see the girl's a.s.s if he pushes her dress any higher, I look away.

With the disgust, edges in the unwarranted jealousy. I wouldn't want to swap places with her, not in the darkened hallway of a club, but I'm still p.i.s.sed off he went straight for another girl. Couldn't Jax at least use the opportunity to show Bryn he's wrong about him?

Why should he? He's a twenty-one year old rock G.o.d in training ruled by his d.i.c.k. Ugh.

I agree with Bryn, if Jax tries to hit on me, he'll get a shock because I'm not falling for the c.r.a.p that puts girls into the position she's in. Some girls need to learn the meaning of self-respect.

I clear my throat loudly and walk to the stairs, not looking back to see if I alerted them.

On the balcony, the wind blowing in from the river bites and I rub my arms. Although the temperature is higher than it would be in London, I'm cool in my dress. Tomas, from the ad agency group, told me there's a great view of the sunrise up here and I'm disappointed it's the wrong time of year, because sunrise happens after the club closes. Settling onto a metal chair next to a table, I take in the view of the dark river and lights twinkling along the bank. Summer here, sitting with friends and a few drinks, must be amazing. Winter not so much, no surprise the other tables are vacant.

The heavy ba.s.s thumps from below, mingling with the voices of people leaving the club and heading to the car park. My ears ring from spending time immersed in the music and I don't notice the door close and a different couple approach. We all smile in greeting through the shadows, and they sit on a nearby chair, the girl on the guy's lap. Sensible people, they have coats.

A third person arrives, closing the door heavily. I look over and to my amus.e.m.e.nt, a confused looking Jax stares around, pushing his hand through his blond fringe.

"It's outside," he says. "Why are we outside?"

I ignore him and turn back to my river view.

"It's f.u.c.king cold. Did I go the wrong way?"

The couple laughs at him and I fight the smile as he unsteadily walks to the table nearby. He stops when he sees me, and approaches. "Tegan?"

"Jaxon."

Without an invitation, he drags the chair across the floor and sits heavily. "Hey, Tegan."

I crane my neck and look to the door. "Where's your special friend?"

"Huh?"

"The girl?"

For a moment, Jax stares past me and I'm unsure if he's ignoring me or didn't hear. "Oh. Right. Yeah. Changed my mind."

"That was mean of you. She was very enthusiastic."

Jax's drunken eyes meet mine. "Who was?"

"The girl."

"Right. The girl. Did you see where she went?"

I bite my lip against laughing at him. "You lost her? Careless."

"Wait. How do you know she was enthusiastic?" he slurs.

"You weren't exactly in private."

"Hmm." Jax slumps back and runs a hand across his face. "Yeah."

A few hours ago, sitting with Jax filled my insides with b.u.t.terflies, but there's nothing s.e.xy about drunk guys. Sure, Jax is still the most attractive guy I've met in a long time, and probably in the whole place, but the seductiveness of his looks are lost in hazy confusion. I am going to have fun reminding him of this tomorrow.

"Are you usually such a great conversationalist, Jax?"

Again with the staring past my head. "Is that the sea?"

"No, it's a river."

"It's big." Unable to hide my amus.e.m.e.nt any longer, I suppress a giggle. Jax frowns at me. "What?"

"Maybe you should go back to the hotel." A thought hits. "Wait, is that why you're looking for the girl? Taking her back for a hot night with the equally hot Jax Lewis?"

He clutches his chest. "You think the worst of me."

"Think? You were putting on quite a show when I saw you before."

Jax grazes his teeth over his bottom lip, his perfect brow creasing. "Not taking her back, no. No point."

"Why? Did she say no?"

Shaking hair from his face, Jax drags his chair closer to me. "I'm too drunk." Was that supposed to be a whisper? Because the volume was enough to elicit another laugh from the couple nearby.

"Too drunk?" I ask and he gives me a lopsided smile. "Ah, I get it! Do you mean you're too drunk to come up with the goods?" I snort in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Imagine the story: 'My night of pa.s.sion with Jax Lewis.'" I make the headline in the air with my hand. "That would be a short article. Not very flattering either."

My humour sails over his head. "Are you staying with Bryn for long?" he asks.

"The whole tour."

Jax rubs his nose. "s.h.i.t."

"Pardon?"

"You're distracting." He sighs. "You're beautiful."

"Oh, dear." I shake my head at him. "I think you should call a cab and go sleep this off."

"But you are and I want to... and I can't 'cause you're his sister."

I slide my chair back. "Wrong. You can't because I don't sleep with guys like you."

Weirdest thing. Jax looks shocked. "Like me? But I'm a rock star."

"OmiG.o.d, you're hilarious!"

"What?"

This guy is genuinely confused why I wouldn't throw myself naked at him. "I don't want to have s.e.x with you. Ever. So keep that in your pretty little head."

"Huh." Jax sits back again. "But you think I'm hot."

"Jesus, Jax, give it a rest."

"I saw how you looked at me when we met. I know when girls want me. Plenty do, you know."

I splutter. "You're attractive, yes, but I don't 'want' you."

Slumped in his seat still, Jax looks up at the sky. "I'm a rock star."

"Apparently, so you keep telling me."

"Yeah, but it's f.u.c.king weird, right? Like, six months ago I was a wannabe rock star. Didn't like him much but he's okay, I s'pose. I mean, without him I wouldn't be here."

"Didn't like who?"

"Jem Jones. Stole my girl."

I straighten with interest. "Your girl? Ruby? Were you together?"

"No, but should've been." He pauses. "I'm over her now. We'd never work."

"It certainly looked like you were half an hour ago."

The conversation lulls and Jax slips further in his chair, head nodding to one side, eyes closed.

"Jax, you need to leave before you pa.s.s out." I poke him in the stomach, not surprised by how solid his abs are.

Jax blinks back to his inebriated consciousness, steadies himself on the table, and stands. This guy is a hilarious drunk, swaying slightly as he grips the back of the chair. Scared he's about to collapse, I stand too.

He turns his drunken eyes to me again. "You're beautiful, Tegan why-the-h.e.l.l-did-you-have-to-be Hughes."

"You're drunk."

"But in the morning I'll be sober and you'll... Wait. How does that thing go again?"

"What thing?"

"The thing the guy said. Remember?"

With no clue what he's saying, I indicate the door. "Let's go."

Unsteadily, Jax heads across the balcony with me. "I'm a rock star," he repeats.

"Yes, Jax, you're a rock star."

A slow grin spreads across his face as he stops and throws his arms in the air. "I'm a f.u.c.king rock star!" The movement destabilises Jax and he trips sideways; missing the chair, he attempts to steady himself on.

The drunk rock star falls to the floor and laughs, and lies back and stares at the sky.

"I think I need to find somebody to take you back to the hotel."

Jax doesn't respond, and I walk away laughing to myself. I'll find somebody else to sort him out, my night isn't finished yet.

5.

JAX.

Somebody hammers nearby, banging into my dreams. I squint open an eye. Unfamiliar bed, mattress hard against my aching back, the detergent scent of the sheets strange. Hotel room. The banging intensifies. I grope around for my phone on the table next to the bed, and remember I threw it across the room because the d.a.m.n thing wouldn't stop ringing.

I sit.

Jesus, my head.