One side of Ash’s mouth lifted in challenge. “I don’t know…I think you might have met your match with that one. Pretty sure she’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
“Can’t chew up what you can’t sink your teeth into.”
The snicker from Zee was every kind of dubious. “You guys are complete assholes.” He pointed between Ash and Lyrik. “The two of you need to come with a warning label.”
Ash stretched out his arms, all tattoos and thick muscles. “You’d think this would be enough, but they just keep coming.”
Zee shook his head. “See…asshole.”
Ash just laughed.
While the guys continued to rib each other, I sat there and sipped at my drink, my gaze trailing Shea as she steadfastly ignored me. But there was nothing stoic about it. The tension that rolled from her golden skin, eyes downcast, face shielded by a tidal wave of blonde.
Every time she passed by, it crashed against me—the turmoil radiating from her.
A building storm.
And I was the cause of it—the heat and the chaos and the driving wind. Passing lawlessness that would only leave a path of destruction in its wake.
Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to do the right thing, to stand up and walk out of her life, because every decision I ever made was always the wrong one.
Selfish.
Selfish.
Selfish.
It chanted through me.
But this? This was a primal need.
She breezed by our table, slowing just long enough to ask if we wanted another round. Of course we did. This time it took her a little longer to return. The band had struck up, and the bar had gotten busy, a crush of bodies overflowing and scrambling to get a better view.
I didn’t care, because that meant I got to watch her from behind. Leaning up against the bar, braced on her forearms, chatting with the older rough guy who I’d learned was her uncle. His expression when he spoke with her told me he recognized her light, but in a different way— as something to protect and preserve and sustain. Tonight she had on another pair of cut-off jeans, darker this time, and the same red boots that showed off the defined cut of her legs.
My chest squeezed.
The girl had to be the best thing I’d ever seen.
Fucking stunning.
She walked back to our table and divvied out our drinks. She passed mine to me last. This time I didn’t think, I just touched. I wrapped my hand around the back of her slim wrist, silently begging her to stay at the exact same time she was pulling away. Soft skin burned against mine, her pulse a thready heave.
Unsettled eyes darted up to me, and she wrenched her hand free. I don’t have time for distractions. She razed me with the same excuse she’d been giving me for weeks—that shield cutting harsh lines into the contours of her face.
But I wanted one.
I wanted her.
She threw up more of those goddamned walls I wanted to tear down. Her spine straightened in defense as she tore herself away and left me there with my arm stretched across the table in straight-up rejection.
A sarcastic snort rang out from Lyrik as we watched her disappear into the fray. “Oh that was super smooth, dude. Like putty in your hands.”
Asshole just had to dig it in.
“Fuck you, man.” Yanking my arm back, I cocked my head to the side so I could glare at Lyrik who was having way too much fun at my expense. God, the one drawback of having friends who knew you so well? They picked up on absolutely everything and figured every bit was their business. Weren’t a whole lot of secrets between the four of us. Usually that shit didn’t matter because I had nothing to hide from them.
But this?
This felt private. Like I needed to protect Shea from their prying minds and misplaced assumptions. Just one more thing about her that left me feeling unnerved.
“What was that about, anyway?” Ash asked.
And there we go.
I shrugged. “Wasn’t about anything. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”