Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)

“I believe I said I’d call you,” I snap. Half of me is more than a little irritated that he followed me here tonight, but the other part is stoked to see him.

“You did, but I’m not a patient man. Especially when it comes to you, Emmy.” He slides in the booth beside me, forcing me to move over. He brushes the hair off my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “And don’t even try to correct me to Emma just because you’re pissed. It’s Emmy.” His hot breath sends chills down my body.

I no longer trust my intoxicated words at this moment. There is a very good chance an invitation to go home and ravage his body will tumble out. So I cross my arms and pout like a child.

“What are y’all doing here?” Kara slides out so Brett can sit next to Jesse.

“We need to talk,” Brett says, looking directly at me. He kisses Jesse and throws a protective arm around her shoulders. I really like Jesse, and I’m really glad Brett moved on. But it is really fucking weird to see him this way with another woman.

“Butternut squash,” Kara says in complete awe while staring wide-eyed at Caleb.

Jesse and I both burst into drunken laughter. Caleb looks confused for a minute before looking down at me with a knowing smirk.

“I finally made the infamous vegetable report, huh?”

“Yep, congratulations! Now can I see your tattoos?” Kara asks, and her already wide eyes get even wider.

“I see Emma has been talking about me. I guess she’s not too pissed after all.”

“I told them you had ugly tattoos and a weird squash-shaped dick,” I say, trying to keep up my bitch mode.

“No, you didn’t.” He calls my bullshit as he rolls the sleeve up on his shirt and shows Kara his arm. Jesse even gets in on the action by standing up and looking at the black bird down the back of his shirt.

“All right, ladies and cocks. I’m going to see if I can find a squash of my own. I’ll be back in a few,” Kara says, heading toward the bar.

“I like her a lot,” I tell Caleb, who is looking down at me with warm eyes. I know I’m pissed, but I’m also drunk, so I lean up and place a lingering kiss to his perfect lips.

“Ehm.” Brett clears his throat across the table, and Jesse begins to giggle.

“Talk. Do it quick, because I’m taking Emma home—very soon,” Caleb informs Brett, never taking his eyes off mine.

“Jesus Christ. Fine.” Brett lets out a groan. “Look, we talked. Caleb assures me that he’s not using you. I have been very honest with him and told him that I don’t necessarily believe him. However, we both agree you are an adult and can make your own decisions.”

“Well, gosh. That was really kind of y’all,” I say sarcastically.

“Emma, I’m serious here. I don’t want you getting hurt. I know shit didn’t work out with me and Sarah, but you’re still a sister to me. My problem is I also consider Caleb family. So you two…doing whatever you’re doing…is just an awkward situation waiting to happen when you break up.”

“But what if it works out?” I question, and Caleb leans down and kisses my hair in apparent agreement.

“Well that’s up to you two. But I’m out of this. Do whatever you want. Just don’t drag me in the middle when it falls apart.”

“It won’t fall apart,” Jesse chimes in from beside him.

“Right, I mean if it falls apart,” he corrects.

“Okay. Everyone cool? Emmy, get your purse,” Caleb says, rushing me out of the booth.

“Wait! I’m still pissed at you.”

“No, you’re not,” he replies, pushing me to my feet.

“Yes, I am. I’m going to have another drink with my friends, and you are just going to have to be patient. That is your punishment.” I wave down the waitress as he groans beside me.

I’m not mad anymore. I’m actually really glad he took the initiative to make up with Brett and have an actual conversation rather than a dick show. I’m just having a really good time hanging out with everyone, and Caleb’s being here now only makes it better.





TWO HOURS. Two. Fucking. Hours. That is how long Emma has been ‘punishing’ me for. It hasn’t really been punishment at all, but she has definitely been making sure that it’s been torture. I’ve had fun hanging out with everyone, but Emma’s gently stroking my cock under the table has made it virtually unbearable.

Brett and I apparently have the same plans for the end of the evening, because the minute a round of shots that Kara sent over from the bar arrived, we both ordered a table full of food. Tipsy sex with your girl is fucking hot, but there is a fine line between tipsy and hammered. I need a replay of last night with Emma, but I have to keep her sober enough to get it.

“Eat,” I say, pushing some fries into her face.

“No. I’m full. Leave me alone. I’m not drunk, Caleb.” She bats my hands away.

“Good. Stay that way. You need to eat, Emmy. I have big plans for tonight, and none of them involve you passing out on the drive back.”