The classic rock is already turned up, and since Coop and I are late to arrive, it looks like the alcohol is already flowing freely.
“We ordered a bunch of wings for you two.” Emmy smiles up at me and moves in so I can squeeze past her. Dee has effectively blocked my chance at getting close to her by holing herself between Izzy and Maddox. I try to make eye contact with her, but she’s looking everywhere but at me.
“Have you been here long, Em?”
She shakes her head, and the light blush that we all find so adorable covers her face.
“No, not too long.” She peeks up again and looks over at Maddox. I laugh softly, which earns me her wide-eyed shock. It’s no secret that she has a major crush on our resident Mr. Untouchable. He’s either clueless, which I have a feeling isn’t the case, not with Maddox, or he just doesn’t want to see sweet Emmy change. He’s not an easy man to deal with, and even I worry that her little crush could end up going sour. One of these days, she’s finally going to come out of her shell though and give that man a run for his money.
“That’s good, Sugar.”
“Yo! Who’s ready to get this party started?” Coop screams when he finally detaches himself from the blonde that grabbed him before he had two feet in the door.
Leave it to Coop to break the ice and have us all eating, drinking, and laughing in no time. I look over at Dee again to see her smiling and joining in, but like always, I see right through her. She’s laughing, but not like she used to. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t come close to making her eyes dance. She’s eating, if you call picking up a fry every few minutes and nibbling, eating. How is it that everyone else is blind to the fact that she needs someone to lean on?
I take another long swallow of my beer, wipe my hands against my jeans, and settle in. I’m just biding my time before I take a risk and try to shake some sense into her.
Let’s just hope I’m not making a huge mistake here.
Dee
Thirty more minutes, and I’m getting out of here. Normally, I have no issues being around Beck, but after last weekend, seeing the devastation wash over his face when I told him Stewart was coming over, almost had me giving in.
It’s been so hard to stay away, to keep my distance, and try to squash this thing between us. I feel like my mind and heart are in a constant battle, each wanting something different. But deep down, I know I’m doing the right thing. There is just too much at stake if we give in and attempt a relationship.
For the last hour, Izzy’s been sitting on Axel’s lap, and I’m pretty sure if they could, he would be bending her over the table. It feels so good to know she is finally happy, but watching them is almost nauseating.
I reach out to take another drink when I remember the pitcher went dry a little while ago, sending Coop and Beck to the bar for refills. I lean back in my seat and pick up another French fry that I know I won’t eat.
“Want mine?”
I jump when Maddox’s question tickles my ear.
“Jesus, Maddox . . . Scare much?”
His lips tip up slightly, and he shrugs.
“I’m not drinking it, if you want it.” He holds out his full glass, and I gladly snatch it from him. The longer I stick around, the more tempting getting fall down drunk seems.
After a long pull, I look around the room again. Where the hell is he? Just when I’m about to give up my stupid search for Beck, my eyes hit the bar and the couple I had overlooked the first sweep through the crowd.
Before I can stop them, the words fly out of my mouth. “What the fuck?” Izzy’s head snaps up and looks over at me before following my eyes across the room. I know when she sees him because her hand reaches out and grabs my arm. I don’t even notice the biting pain of her nails because of the red-hot fury that is pulsing through my body.
How dare he? He acts as if he wants me, but the second things get difficult, he runs. Typical man. And a Heavy’s Slut? He had to pick the regular trash that never seems to leave and is always here, always dressed like a prostitute, and never with the same man.
“That stupid, little fucker. I hope his dick rots off.” There’s no way in hell that I can stop the verbal vomit now. I can hear Axel laughing softly, and all it does is fuel the inferno blazing through my body. I want blood, preferably the hoochie grinding her crotch rot all over his leg, but I’ll settle for his. I want to hurt something, destroy something; I want him to know this is wrong.
It takes me a few more seconds before I can’t stand it any longer, and I shoot out of my chair and stomp across the wooden floor. My heels threaten to snap with the force of my steps. My hands clench at my sides, and my breathing is coming in short bursts. When I get closer, and see how she is shamelessly grinding against his leg, my eyes narrow, and I pick up the speed in my walk.