WILL
I thought about not going after her, not because she looked like she wanted my company or anything, but because I knew damn well I was the reason she was fuming right now.
But that was also why I was so compelled to follow her. I liked that side of her.
Was that fucked up? Absolutely.
But it’s not like I could control what her quick temper did to me. I also couldn’t help noticing the way her nipples strained against the practically see-through fabric of her dress, or the way they’d hardened the moment she’d spotted me standing there.
That was when I was convinced I wasn’t alone in this . . . whatever the fuck it was we were doing. She might not like it, but she definitely felt something for me, same as I did for her.
Her nipples didn’t get hard when that Zane kid hovered around her.
So here I was, pursuing her.
“I had no idea you’d be here tonight, you know.” When she spun away from the bar to face me, her liquid brown eyes flashed with fury and I almost felt bad. She might be attracted to me, but goddamnit, I pissed her off, too.
I knew I’d fucked up that night at the pool when I’d lost control and let myself kiss her . . . touch her. Hell, she’d paid me to teach her to swim and I’d almost fucked her right then and there. I should’ve had more self-control, and if she hadn’t been so eager, I might have.
But fuck, she had been willing . . . and wet . . . and . . .
I shifted uncomfortably, the memory making me stiff in my jeans, even now. God, even while she was glaring at me I still wanted to grab her and bend her over the bar. What did that say about me?
“Well, now you know,” she spat. “So why don’t you just . . . leave?” She sagged forward against the bar at the same time the bartender handed her another drink. Apparently, she’d stepped it up from beer and had ordered something dark on ice.
“Lauren, I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, her eyes going all sad and soft, and for some reason that was a hell of a lot worse than having her pissed at me, because I was defenseless against sad. “I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. I’m not the one you should say sorry to.” Her supple lips were begging to be kissed.
“I’m not sure what—” I’d just started talking when a raspy voice called my name, or at least a version of it.
“Billy! Wondered when you’d be back for more.” The girl was as hot as my whiskey-drenched memory had recalled. Tonight she was wearing a black leather skirt with a matching vest. The buttons strained, revealing only skin beneath, and leading me to believe she wore nothing beneath it. Her black boots were more combat than cowboy, and the hot pink feather clipped in her hair was neither.
But it was her legs I remembered most—long and tan, and silky smooth. There was no way this could end well.
Lauren was doing her level best to kill the both of us with her pointed stare, so I figured I ought to do the gentlemanly thing and introduce the two of them.
“Lauren, this is . . .” I faltered, because even though I could remember what her legs felt like, I couldn’t conjure up a name to save my life.
Working up my best self-effacing expression, I silently implored the girl to help me out.
“Heidi,” the girl said, throwing me a bone, along with a look that said I owed her one—a debt she’d never collect on. She held out her pink-polished fingers to Lauren for a handshake.
“Heidi,” I finished as if she hadn’t just said it for me. “Heidi—Lauren.”
Lauren rolled her eyes, ignoring both of us as she turned back to the bartender. “Can I get a shot?”
The bartender, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, asked, “Of what?”
“Don’t care. Whatever’s closest.”
I would’ve reminded Lauren she still hadn’t finished the drink she had, except it was none of my business. Heidi dropped the hand she’d been holding out, seemingly unconcerned that Lauren had just brushed off her attempt to be civil. “I’ll have the same,” she said to the bartender.
“Two whatevers coming up,” the bartender said, like it made no difference to him. He slid two shot glasses filled with amber liquid toward the last two girls I wanted comparing notes—the one I couldn’t stop thinking about and the one I’d tried to use as a placeholder for her.
Lauren picked up her shot and threw it back without missing a beat. Within seconds, her face scrunched up as she made a fist with her other hand and leaned forward, waiting for the liquor to blaze a trail to her gut.
Heidi took a sniff of her drink and then tasted it. “Someone shoulda told you—always sip Jäger.” She said it like she was some sort of Jägermeister connoisseur—something no one should be proud of.
I scowled at the bartender. “Dude, that’s messed up.” Lauren took several deep breaths, and I started to worry she might puke or something. I put my hand beneath her chin. “You okay, Brown Eyes?”
“Oh, I get it. She gets a cute nickname, and you can’t even remember my name.” Heidi was still nursing her drink and watching me suspiciously, like anything I did was her business.
Lauren knocked my hand away, but her gaze was unfocused and slightly bleary. “I’m fine,” she said combatively, and then told the bartender, “I’ll have another.”
Heidi barked with laughter, a sound that resonated through the bar and grated on my nerves. “I like her. She’s got spunk.”
Biting back a scathing remark, I tried to reason with Lauren. “That’s probably not a good idea. Maybe I should get your friend now.” I started to wave, meaning to get the blonde girl’s attention—Emerson something-or-other. But Zane saw me instead.
Lauren’s gaze landed on me with almost laser-like precision as she tried to burn a hole right through me with that stare, and for a second I thought I might’ve been wrong—maybe she was totally fine. “Mind your own business,” she slurred, and before I could talk her out of it, she picked up her second shot and downed it. Then, when I was about to tell her she’d had enough, she reached out and grabbed Heidi’s shot and threw the rest of that one back too. Heidi didn’t try to stop her. I was pretty sure Heidi was glad to have front-row seats to the shit show that was unfolding in front of her.
The third shot went down even rougher than the first and second had. Lauren had to swallow several times, and I was pretty sure not all of the swallows were Jäger.
“Do you need to go to the restroom?” I asked, almost certain where this was headed.
“Why can’t you just stay away from me? I can’t believe I ever thought I liked you. I can’t believe I let you kiss me.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Zane freeze where he was. I couldn’t say I wasn’t a little satisfied he’d just heard that. But Lauren wasn’t finished just yet, not by a long shot, and I had a feeling she’d be regretting a hell of a lot come morning. “What are you looking at?” she asked, turning on Zane now. “I told you I was fine. I don’t need you to come over here and rescue me.” She waved him away. “I got this.”
Zane did what any self-respecting guy would do and backed away.
I, on the other hand, wasn’t going anywhere. Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment, and Lauren was more than happy to dish it out. “You’re just like all the rest of ’em—a first-class prick. I should’ve never . . .” She swallowed again. “. . . trusted you.”
Her friend was coming now, the tall blonde girl. Hopefully Lauren would listen to her since she wasn’t listening to me.
But before her friend reached us, Lauren got up from her stool.
“I can’t believe I wanted you to fu—” She swayed then, and tried to catch the bar, but when she missed it, I caught her instead.
“Lauren, come on. Let’s get you someplace . . .”
That’s when she bent forward and lost it . . . all over the floor, all over her shoes, and all over mine.