Walking Disaster (Beautiful Disaster #2)

I glanced over my shoulder, and three of Lexi’s sorority sisters were standing shoulder to shoulder. Another of them stood next to me with a bright smile. They all grinned when I made eye contact, but I quickly turned around, chugging the last half of my beer. For whatever reason, girls that acted that way around me made America pretty cranky. I couldn’t disagree with her vulture reference, though.

I lit a cigarette, and then ordered two more beers. The blonde next to me, Brooke, smiled and bit her lip. I paused, unsure if she was going to cry or hug me. It wasn’t until Cami popped the tops and slid the bottles over that I knew why Brooke had that ridiculous look on her face. She picked up the beer and started to take a sip, but I grabbed it from her before she could, and handed it to Abby.

“Uh . . . not yours.”

Brooke stomped off to join her friends. Abby, however, seemed perfectly content, taking man-size gulps.

“Like I would buy a beer for some chick at a bar,” I said. I thought it would add to Abby’s amusement, but instead she held up her beer with a sour look on her face.

“You’re different,” I said with a half smile.

She clinked her bottle against mine, clearly irritated. “To being the only girl a guy with no standards doesn’t want to sleep with.” She took a swig, but I pulled the bottle from her mouth.

“Are you serious?” When she didn’t respond, I leaned in closer for full effect. “First of all . . . I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly woman. Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think you’re better than that.”

A smug smile crept across her face. “You think I’m too good for you.”

Unbelievable. She really didn’t get it. “I can’t think of a single guy I know that’s good enough for you.”

The smugness melted away, replaced with a touched, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Trav,” she said, setting her empty bottle on the bar. She could really put them back when she wanted to. Normally I would call that sloppy, but she carried herself with such confidence . . . I don’t know . . . anything she did was hot.

I stood and grabbed her hand. “C’mon.” I pulled her to the dance floor, and she followed behind me.

“I’ve had a lot to drink! I’m going to fall!”

Now on the dance floor, I grabbed her hips and pulled her body tight against mine, leaving no room between us. “Shut up and dance.”

All the giggles and smiles left her face, and her body began to move against mine to the music. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. The closer we were, the closer I needed her to be. Her hair was in my face, and even though I’d drunk enough to call it a night, all of my senses were alert. The way her ass felt against me, the different directions and motions her hips made to the music, the way she leaned back against my chest and rested the back of her head on my shoulder. I wanted to pull her to some dark corner and taste the inside of her mouth.

Abby turned to face me with a mischievous smile. Her hands began at my shoulders, and then she let her fingers run down my chest and stomach. I nearly went insane, wanting her right then and there. She turned her back to me, and my heart beat even faster against my rib cage. She was closer that way. I gripped her hips and pulled her tighter into me.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my face in her hair. It was saturated with sweat, and combined with her perfume. Any rational thought disappeared. The song was ending, but she showed no signs of stopping.

Abby leaned back, her head against my shoulder. Some of her hair fell away, exposing the glistening skin of her neck. All willpower vanished. I touched my lips to the delicate spot just behind her ear. I couldn’t stop there, opening my mouth to let my tongue lick the salty moisture from her skin.

Abby’s body tensed, and she pulled away.

“What, Pidge?” I asked. I had to chuckle. She looked like she wanted to hit me. I thought we were having a good time, and she was angrier than I’d ever seen her.

Instead of letting her temper fly, she pushed through the crowd, retreating to the bar. I followed, knowing I would find out soon enough what exactly I had done wrong.

Taking the empty stool beside her, I watched as Abby signaled to Cami that she wanted another beer. I ordered one for myself, and then watched her chug half of hers. The bottle clanged against the counter when she slammed it down.

“You think that is going to change anyone’s mind about us?”

I laughed once. After all that bumping and grinding against my dick, she was suddenly worried about appearances? “I don’t give a damn what they think about us.”

She shot me a dirty look, and then turned to face forward.

“Pigeon,” I said, touching her arm.

She jerked away. “Don’t. I could never get drunk enough to let you get me on that couch.”

Instant rage consumed me. I had never treated her like that. Never. She led me on, and then I gave her one or two little kisses on the neck, and she freaks out?

I started to speak, but Megan appeared next to me.

“Well. If it isn’t Travis Maddox.”

“Hey, Megan.”

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