CHAPTER 137: RESEARCH AT CLUB GOLDEN 1: MEETING OLIVER.

Bethany’s Pov.

"I understand."

And I did. I mean, I had to. I didn’t have much of a choice.

When we got out of the elevator, we were greeted by bouncers who searched the couple ahead of us but just bowed when it was our turn to be searched, letting us go in peacefully.

I looked up to his face, wanting to ask why, but the cold, stern look that sat pretty against his features told me all I needed to know and more.

They knew him. They respected him. But bowing to VIPs? Didn’t think clubs worked that way.

As soon as we stepped into the club, I raised my hands to my ears, expecting them to be blasted with excruciatingly loud music, but brought them down when I saw a bar instead. A bar and the biggest coat closet I have ever seen I’m my life.

It was three times the size of the one we used at the pack house.

"Is the club hidden, or are we early?" I couldn’t help but ask Trist while we headed to the bar counter.

"Good evening, Sir." Greeted the drop-dead gorgeous lean man who stood behind the counter, arms spread out wide as he leaned forward towards me.

"Hello, Strawberry." He cooed with a soft, genuine smile. "You look awesome."

I blushed at his compliment, nodding softly. "Thank you .." I drawled, looking down at his name tag. "Oliver."

Just as he was about to respond, my very jealous mate decided to make his presence known.

"Rabbit." He growled, giving the lean man a menacing glare that shook the guy, but he waved it off after a few seconds, replacing it with a bored one.

"I’m gay, Tristan." He deadpanned. "Fucking gay. You know that already, but you keep forgetting."

"Because you never remind me. Gay men do not flirt with women, or has the definition changed?" Tristan asked, earning an eye roll. "Something strong for me, and an extremely light one for her." He ordered, and Oliver quickly got to work, but was nowhere near done with the conversation.

"I wasn’t flirting. I was just appreciating beauty. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen pass this counter tonight." He said as his hands flew so fast over the place, shaking, stirring, and pouring. "Besides, if you’re this uptight with me, it could only mean I would be disposing of a black bag today, if not more." He glanced at Tristan briefly as they exchanged a knowing look, pushing his glass easily towards him against the smooth, shiny countertop.

He handed me mine, cradling the cup with two hands, his head bowed halfway.

"Thank you," I muttered, bringing the glass close to my nostrils to sniff it.

"Anytime, Cutie." He cooed, turning to Tristan. "How many should I prepare?" He asked, and I placed my drink quietly on the counter, curious about what black bags they were talking about.

"Not so much," Tristan responded in a grave tone. My eyes were on his lips as he took a sip of his hard liquor, whatever it was. I watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression hard and unmoving.

His head whipped around to face me, catching me staring before I could even process any moves to manage or avoid my impending embarrassment.

"I..uh-"

"We’re only here to check things out. I want to show her what this side of the world looks like." Tristan cut me off, answering Oliver without taking his heavy, mind-numbing gaze off me.

"Mmm, I see," Oliver said, his curious eyes darting from Tristan to me and back. "Well, how about Troy and Theo? Are they coming?" He asked, causing my mood to go from embarrassed to curious. I was finally able to look at him, a bit, but my ears were standing upright.

"Maybe, maybe not." He responded, his eyes searching mine as he downed the remnants of his glass.

My stupid heart couldn’t help but beat so loudly, I could literally hear it thumping in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was because of his gaze that was sending shivers down my spine, or the fact that my other mates might be visiting.

With all the strength I could muster, I tore my gaze from his, picking up my glass and downing its contents in one go, shutting my eyes tightly as the liquid burned my throat and insides of my stomach, causing lone tears to fall from the corners of my eyes.

"Ahh!" I groaned, popping open my teary eyes, laughter spilling through me as I saw Oliver’s heavily amused expression.

"I thought I said something extremely light, Oliver," Tristan growled, startling us. When I turned to him, amusement eluded me completely. My lips sealed up for their dear life, letting my eyes dart between them, watching.

"It’s just tequila sunrise, Tristan. It’s her first time, so it’s definitely going to burn." Oliver responded, his expression stoic, almost as if he was pissed.

"Okay." Tristan heaved shortly, turning to me. I almost squeaked in shock, wiping the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand.

"It’s light." I defended Oliver. "It didn’t hurt that much. Just wasn’t expecting it."

He sighed, nodding. But his expression and demeanor didn’t sit right with me. He looked like something was seriously bothering him.

I wanted to ask him what was up, but I doubted he was going to be willing to open up before his subordinate, so I stayed quiet, biding my time.

"The club is in full swing," Oliver informed absentmindedly, his attention on the liquor bottles he was arranging. "Now would be the perfect time for some sightseeing."

"Right," Tristan said, looking up from his empty glass, turning to me. "We should get going."

"Yeah. " I responded, slapping on a soft smile. I slipped down from my stool, stumbling a bit as I tried to find balance with the death traps that clad my feet.

I sighed as I looked up at the men I was sitting with, confusion washing through me as I took in their expressions. "What’s the problem? Why are you guys looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?" I reached for my face, touching my cheeks and forehead.

"No, Princess," Tristan said, pulling me close to him. "Are you okay? How many fingers are these?" He asked, holding his index and middle fingers before me.

"Those are two fingers, Tristan, and I’m not drunk. The chair was high, that’s why I stumbled." I said, chuckling lightly as I looked at both of them. But seeing as their expressions didn’t change, I realized they thought I was intoxicated.

They have to be kidding me. It was one drink! A beginner’s fucking drink!

"I’m not drunk! Geez. It’s my first time, but I can’t be that lightweight." I pressed, looking at both of them one after the other.

"Are you sure, Princess?" Tristan asked again, his curious eyes searching mine.

"Here," Oliver said, offering me a glass of water. "I know you’re not drunk, but please take this. Consider it as an insurance."

I sighed, looking at Tristan for some kind of help, but he took the glass from Oliver, offering it to me himself.

I opened my mouth to argue, but decided against it. They were stubborn werewolves and wouldn’t let me off if I didn’t drink the water, so I collected it grudgingly and downed it in one go, shoving the glass back into Tristan’s hand.

"Happy?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, c’mon. You can’t be angry with me. We were just trying to be careful." He pressed.

"Yeah, by calling me super lightweight. How can I get high off one tiny glass of super weak alcohol, just because it’s my first time? That wasn’t funny."

"I’m sorry," Tristan said softly, wrapping his super long arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, despite my resistance- ahem.

Well, I wanted to resist, but honestly, I feel you must be some kind of god to be able to resist any of them. No matter how angry you are.

"Yeah. I am, too." Oliver said, flashing me a soft smile.

"It’s okay," I mumbled. They were only being careful. At my expense, but I understood.

"Ya, sure?" He asked, his smile switching to a boyish grin, which... actually looked pretty good on him.

No, I’m not crushing. I can’t.

"Yes, I am," I said, groaning. "It’s not like I can stay angry," I said as I turned to Tristan, just in time to see the right corner of his lip turn up.

"Of course, you can’t. Even if you try." He said, looking all smug. He earned a huge eye roll for that, while I earned a tight squeeze of my right ass for the eye roll.

"Alright, folks," Oliver called, clapping his hands. "Your time at my bar is up. Can’t have you guys fucking on those seats I spent time cleaning." He spat, causing an involuntary gasp to slick through my lips, while Tristan scoffed.

"You, clean? Not in this lifetime." He retorted, pecking my crimson cheeks. "Now, you’ve got my Princess red. I’m taking a thousand shan from your pay." He threatened, holding my hand as he began walking towards a dimly lit hallway.

"No qualms. I’ll get tips." Oliver called cheekily as we entered the hallway, earning a light chuckle from Tristan.

"Pussy."