I didn’t have to doubt him.
Sure, I still felt the simmering rage of jealousy when I saw him talk to another girl.
Yeah, I had some trust issues I was continuing to work on.
But I knew he was mine. His eyes, his body, his heart was only for me.
I had become a bigger person. And I could stand in a group of women who were fawning all over my boyfriend, screaming their heads off, and saying they loved him, and not lose my mind. Because I knew at the end of the night, when the crowd was gone and the music was over, he would be with me. And only me.
Forever.
I looked over my shoulder and could only shake my head at their ridiculousness. I didn’t feel the need to let them know he was mine. I had grown past such silly gestures of ownership.
“I know what’ll get his attention,” the skank in the barely there skirt yelled to her friend.
She lifted her shirt and showed the world, including my boyfriend, her boobs.
I said I had grown up but that didn’t make me a saint. And there were some things that still pushed my buttons.
Skanks flashing Cole their body parts were definitely one of them.
I took Gracie’s soda from her hands. “I need to borrow this,” I told her. She looked at me confused.
Then I turned around and dumped the contents all over Miss Slutface, drenching her in cola.
“AHH!” she screamed, lowering her shirt back over her now sticky breasts.
“You bitch!” she snarled, trying to lunge at me. Her friends held her back.
I got in her face. “Keep your shirt on you stupid whore! That man up there,” I turned and pointed to Cole, who was singing his ass off, his eyes on me, a smile on his face.
“That man is mine. So keep your cheap, inflatable boobs to yourself, or I’ll make you choke on them,” I threatened.
The girl didn’t say anything. She backed down instantly, fixing her shirt so that it covered her more modestly.
I turned back around and Gracie snickered.
“You’re insane,” she laughed.
I shrugged and looked back to the stage. Cole’s eyes were laughing. He had seen the whole thing.
You’re mine, I mouthed to him.
The song ended and before the band launched into the next one, Cole leaned down, the mic in his hand and cupped the back of my head from where he stood. I had to go up on my tiptoes to reach him. He kissed me quick and hard. Just how I liked it.
When he stood back up he pointed at me. “That woman right there is my girlfriend. I’m one lucky bastard, right?” he yelled. The audience roared their agreement and I loved it. I ate it up.
I looked over my shoulder and smirked at the still dripping girl behind me. She glared back.
Yep, Cole Brandt was mine.
And even though we were nothing but drama, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There was no alternative.
We were extreme.
We were insatiable.
We were madness.
But we loved each other.
In the end, that was the only thing that mattered.
And if I had to smack a bitch for looking at him, then so be it.
Because that’s how we rolled.
One piece of crazy at a time.
The End
Read other books by A. Meredith Walters
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