Page 34 of Hate So Deep
When I see Buck’s gap-toothed smile shining back at me from the picture on top, I turn away and I don’t look back as I turn out the light.
Chapter 13
THEN
Lauren
A week passes while I brood about Dirk and his cruel brush off. Finally, I set it aside because I can’t make Dirk like me and frankly, I don’t want to…or so I tell myself.
Although I agreed to attend another party, the living room is packed when we step inside and after finding an out of the way spot, I sip on a beer while Rocket and Caro chat over my head.
When they fall quiet, I look around to see Caro off in the crowd dancing with some dude and turn to Rocket, my cheeks flushing at the intensity of his perusal.
He smiles and absently I note that he has pretty brown eyes, but they don’t compare to the liquid darkness of Dirk’s, who may be a dick but he’s the epitome of physical perfection.
And that kiss…holy Jesus my lips still tingle from the brutal caress.
“So, Lala,” Rocket says. “You wanna hang out tomorrow?”
My throat fills with sludge, and I clear it before tossing my reservations to the wind. He likes me. He’s nice. He’s cute. My mother would freak but maybe I want her to.
Maybe I just want to live.
“Okay,” I say and when he grins, my heart tumbles in my chest.
With a shy smile, I lean forward as he does, only pausing when someone grabs my arm and jerks me away.
“Back off,” Dirk growls and Rocket raises his fist.
Oh shit.
I don’t know why Dirk is bothering but I don’t want my friend to get hurt and so, I step between them and shake my head.
Rocket searches my gaze with a frown before he steps back and Dirk mutters, “Wise choice, dick head.”
Mentally groaning, I glare at the side of Dirk’s face while he pulls me through the house and out the front door.
When we’re on the path to the curb, my shock finally fades and I wrench away, saying, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He grunts his response, and I grit my teeth as we stop before a truck, and he opens the passenger door.
Am I really going to let this asshole boss me around? I admit, his intervention feels like a victory but that’s all it can be.
He’s made his position clear which is why I shake my head.
Apparently, he doesn’t appreciate my refusal though because his nostrils flare like a bull before he leans into my face and growls, “Get in the fucking truck.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I said so.”
“I’m not leaving,” I say, crossing my arms. “I was having fun.”
“With Pollack?” he sneers, and I frown.
“Who?”
“Rocket,” he says, and I eye the tic in his jaw.
