Robbi backs away. “Loud and clear.” He looks at me over Tom’s shoulder, giving me an apologetic face. Then, he turns and disappears into the crowd.
Tom turns to me and grabs my arm. “We’re leaving.”
I wrench it free. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you freaking Neanderthal!” After smoothing a hand over my hair, I grab my purse. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend over there is waiting for you to finish what you started, so you’d better get back to it.” I jerk my head in the direction of a stunned-looking Ashlee, who is still standing where he left her.
His jaw tightens. “Ashlee’s not my girlfriend, and you know it.” Something flickers through his eyes. “That’s why you kissed Robbi, isn’t it? Because you saw Ashlee and me—”
I hold a hand up, cutting him off. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Casanova. I kissed Robbi because I wanted to. Because he’s hot and a really great kisser. A better kisser than you in fact.”
I might as well have just stuck my tongue out at him and said, Na-na-nana-na.
God, I’m pathetic.
Tom’s eyes narrow to slits. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re acting like a child right now.”
“Me?” I yell, slapping a hand to my chest. “I’m not the one who just kicked a kid out of the sandbox ’cause I thought he was playing with my toys.”
His face tightens, his eyes darkening to mega scary. “He was playing with my toy.”
I hide the shiver I feel at his words. Instead, I scowl up at him. “My God, you are an egotistical bastard!”
“Yeah, and you’re a crazy bitch. We’re leaving. Now.”
“Are you deaf? I said, I’m not going anywhere with you!”
I’m pretty sure the whole club is staring at us right now. But I don’t give a shit.
The next thing I hear is this caveman growly sound coming from Tom. Then, I’m being lifted off the ground before being thrown over his shoulder.
“Argh!” I cry out. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me. “You won’t come quietly, so I’m carrying your bitchy ass out of here.”
“Put me down, you lunatic!” I hit his back with my purse.
Then, I very quickly become aware of how short my dress is. I give the hem a sharp tug, making sure my ass is covered.
“No,” he grinds out.
“Psycho!”
“Drama queen.”
“Argh!” I scream again. “I hate you!”
“Yeah, so I keep hearing. Now, shut the hell up because you’re making a scene.” He slaps my ass.
My mouth drops open.
Arrogant asshole! I cannot believe he just told me to shut up and then slapped my ass.
I ignore the fact that in some other scenario—a bedroom one—that would have actually been really hot. I snap out between my gritted teeth, “You’re a fucking mut.” Then, for good measure, I hit his back with my purse again.
“Yeah, I keep hearing that, too.” He chuckles.
The vibration of it hits me in all my tingly places.
In this moment, I’m glad that it’s my ass in his face, so he can’t see the smile forcing its way onto my lips.
Tom jogs down the club steps before heading for the exit, carrying me like I weigh nothing at all.
If it wasn’t so embarrassing, it would be majorly hot.
I know people are staring at us, so I keep my head down and my eyes closed, praying he puts me down soon.
He whistles for a cab. I see one pull up. Tom opens the door and then dumps me on the backseat.
My ass hits the seat, my breath whooshing out with an oomph.
Tom climbs in next to me. “Fairmont,” he tells the driver.
The cab pulls out into traffic.
I shift in my seat to face Tom.
It’s a long moment before he turns his head to look at me. “What?”
“What!” Giving him an incredulous look, I jerk a hand between us. “Are you gonna explain to me what the hell that was all about?”
Grabbing my hand, he holds it up, presses his palm flat against mine, and then links our fingers.
My heart stutters.
A ghost of a smile touches his lips, making him more handsome, if that were possible. “I know you like public shows, Firecracker, but this isn’t the place. We’ll talk about it when we get to the hotel.”
Then, he looks ahead. Sitting here, I’m stunned by everything that has just taken place. But mostly, I’m just speechless from the feel of his hand holding mine.
Knowing I don’t want to give him a reason to let go, I don’t say a word the entire ride back to the hotel.
Fifteen Minutes Later—Fairmont Hotel, Pittsburgh
Keeping a firm hold of my hand, Tom leads me through the plush lobby of the Fairmont and straight into a waiting elevator. He presses the button for the twenty-third floor—his floor, I’m guessing. My room is on the fifteenth floor.
Feeling defiant, I lean over and punch the button marked fifteen.