“I don’t care about her. I care about you and the center, and I don’t want to see her wreck eitherone.”
“Don’t worry about me, boss. I can take care of myself,” he says with an annoying wink. As quickly as his eyes brighten with amusement, they harden just as fast as he stares toward the bar. “Check it out. Looks like we’ve both beencockblocked.”
My body goes rigid as I follow his line of sight. Some frat boy is sitting way too close to Shiloh, pushing a fruity-looking drink toward her. After she shakes her head no, I can hear him ask her to dance, and every muscle in my neck tenses until they almost snap. I know this plotline. I played the starring role back in high school, so I fully expect her to tell him to fuck off. However, white noise fills my head as she slides a glance my way, smiles, and places her hand inhis.
Sometimes I have dreams where shit is happening around me but I can’t do anything about it because my body won’t move. Like my arms and legs are encased in quicksand or something. That’s how I feel watching this asshole’s hands lower by the minute to Shiloh’sass.
“Might as well put thoseaway.”
“Put whataway?”
Discarding the paper from his plastic straw, Frankie taps my tightly curled fists with it. “These things. You got no claim to go bustin’ up faces. You’re with Taryn, remember? Plus, you’ve already told Shiloh to go tohell.”
“Maybe I want some company while I’mthere.”
Frankie just shakes his head and plows through the rest of my cold fries over the next two songs. I can’t take my eyes off her. I shouldn’t care. Whoever grinds their dick into Shiloh West should be the least of my concerns. My focus should be calming Taryn down so everything doesn’t blow up in myface.
Should. Could. Would. Butdon’t.
My head is messed up. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on how I feel about her, she does something so out of character I’m left blindsided, sitting in a booth and fighting an eighteen-year-old for soggyfries.
Actually, it’s not out of character. She’s watching me watch her as she drags her nails along the back of that asshole’s neck. She’s putting on a one-woman show meant to drive me insane, and it’s working. The closer their bodies press together, the more Isweat.
I can’t take any more. Slamming my hand on the table, I slide across the seat. “Fuckthis.”
Before I can clear the booth, a conversation behind me catches my attention. I turn to see two guys, who look just like the douchebag groping Shiloh, watching the same scene on thedancefloor.
The one facing me nods toward Shiloh. “Did you see how messed up her facegot?”
An instinct to defend her hits me, and I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but his friend cuts meoff.
“Yeah, man, I almost didn’t believe it was actuallytheShiloh West until Kevin pulled up that picture of her. She used to be hot, but yeah, that’s just nasty,man.”
My bloodboils.
The guy facing me slugs back his drink. “I’d still fuck her though. I mean, I’d make her put a bag over her head, but there’s nothing wrong with herpussy.”
Did I say my blood’s boiling? I’m about to shit purelava.
They stop to high-five each other, giving me a moment to decide if I should kill them now or wait and run them over with mycar.
“I can’t believe you bet Kevin fifty dollars he couldn’t get a picture of herface.”
No, no, no,no.
“Do you know how much money that shit will go for?” He laughs and lifts his drink toward the dancefloor. “Besides, looks like he’s gonna get a pictureanda piece of asstonight.”
I’m out of my seat and halfway across the room before I register Frankie’s evenspeaking.
“Hey, boss, where are yagoing?”
Ignoring him, I tear across the dance floor. I have no idea what I’m doing or why I’m even doing it as I reach in between them and shove his shoulder. Shocked, he stumbles backward, his fall broken only by the pissed off couple behindhim.
“What the hell, man? You got a problem?” He looks stupid—just like all the other assholes Shiloh dated in high school, which makes me want to punch him even more. His face is red as hell, probably because he knows he’s about to get his ass handed tohim.
I take a step forward. “Yeah, I got a problem—you.” Glancing down, I see his phone sitting on the floor, cued up to the camera app. Filled with rage, I give it a swift kick and watch it fly across the wooden floor and crash across the farwall.
“Hey,” he yells, getting in my face like he’s actually going to do something about it. “You’re gonna pay forthat.”
