Rage boiled through her. “Danny, did someone roofie you?”

The panic in his eyes was increasing by the second, but it would be invisible to anyone who didn’t know him. Though he was somehow managing to keep it together, she could tell he was losing physical coordination from the way he was leaning more heavily on her.

She could also tell that he was fighting it—Danny knew she couldn’t deal with his weight, that it’d take her to the floor. However much they annoyed each other, she’d never worried for her physical safety around him.

He was in serious trouble.

She had to get him out of here, and in a way that didn’t set the media on him. If she didn’t, they’d plaster his face all over the papers and magazines, make him the next “bad boy of sport.” It’d savage his aspirations. More, it’d hurt his family—and Danny loved his aiga. So did Catie.

But she wasn’t going to be able to pull this off on her own.

“Hold on,” she said against his ear, then looked around.

If only Jake had come out with them, but Danny’s brother had flown home straight after tonight’s midweek charity match, and Veni was out of sight beyond the dance floor. That was when she saw Viliame “Vili” Serevi.

While Vili now played for the Harriers’ archrival, the Southern Blizzard, he, Jake, and Danny remained tight—she knew it was at Danny’s place that Vili had crashed when he flew up to Auckland for a wedding. And, regional rivalries aside, all three played together on the national team. The Fijian-Kiwi winger also hated the gossip media and would never betray one of his friends to them.

Catching his eye, she jerked her head.

He wandered over, a big smile on his handsome face and his usual quietness diffused by the fact they’d met multiple times over the years. “Hey, Catie. You and Danny finally hooking up?”

“He’s been slipped drugs I think,” she said to him under the cover of music. They both knew Danny would never do drugs on his own. “Can you help me get him out the back somehow?”

Expression changing so quickly that it was obvious he was sober, he nodded. “Let me go check out the exit there.”

She found herself stroking Danny’s back in the interim, his muscles flexing under the contact. “Hold on, hotshot. I’ve got you.”

Catie could murder the asswipe who’d dared do this to him. She and Danny might be frenemies at the best of times, but even she’d admit he was one of the genuine good guys. Smart, loyal, trustworthy—and irritating as all fuck. But when the shit hit the fan, Danny Esera would be the man you’d want beside you.