“Right.” I nodded. “You just hadn’t wanted to dance with me. I remember now.”
She scowled. “No. That wasn’t it at all. I was just too uncomfortable to dance at all. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Sure,” I murmured in a tone that let her know I didn’t believe her.
With a sniff, she said, “We ended up dancing, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I allowed. “After I forced you into it.”
Huffing some more, she set her hands on her hips as if she were about to give me a piece of her mind. I lifted my eyebrows and took a drink, letting her know I was all ears and ready to hear what spiteful words she had to deliver this time.
But her gaze focused on my cup and she instantly narrowed her eyes. “I thought I told you no more alcohol tonight.”
When she reached for it, I pulled the drink away. “Relax, there isn’t any this time.”
After sending me a telling look, she reached for my cup again, less forcefully this time. I let her take it, and instead of dumping it out on the ground, she took a sip. My body tensed as I watched her lick an excess droplet of pop off her top lip. She swallowed some more, and I couldn’t recall if I had ever seen anything look so freaking sexy before.
Something about watching her drink after me made me want to go into caveman mode, just pick her up, haul her over my shoulder and carry her back to my lair so I could turn into a primal beast that rutted until dawn.
My stomach clenched as I physically restrained myself from reaching for her. “You know,” I murmured, masking all outward signs of arousal. “If you think going protective big sister on me and keeping me sober is going to win you brownie points with Brandt, I should probably just clue you in now…he doesn’t give a shit if I sneak a drink every now and then.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came. I could tell I’d caught her off guard, and I wasn’t sure if I felt smug or shitty about that. I probably shouldn’t have even mentioned Brandt, but hell…he was the only thing between us.
Clearing her throat, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin before saying, “I thought you promised to stop all that contention you keep slinging my way.”
I took my cup out of her hand. “It’s a work in progress.”
But I didn’t get a chance to take a drink. She once again swiped my cup from my clutches. She didn’t dump any liquid on the ground, though. No, she threw the whole damn thing down, cup and all.
A split second later, her finger began to wave madly in my face. “Let’s get one thing straight, Little Gamble.”
“Yes, let’s,” I growled right back, pulling out my own pointer finger and aiming it at her nose so that we could damn near start dueling with them. “Stop calling me Little Gamble. You compare me to him every time you say it, and I don’t like that. I’m not Brandt. I could never be Brandt, even if I tried. So this is who you got, baby doll. Colton David Gamble, and no one else.”
Again, I managed to stun her speechless. “That’s not what I…I mean, I didn’t intend to—shit!” Her eyes grew big as she caught something behind me when she glanced over my shoulder.
I started to turn to see what had stolen her attention, but she grasped my arm to keep me facing her. “We should probably talk about this somewhere else. Yeah, let’s talk about this somewhere else.” Then, tightening her grip on me, she yanked me forward, hurrying through the crowd away from whoever she’d spotted.
I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone I knew, or anyone chasing after us for that matter.
“Who the fuck are we running from?”
“What?” Julianna glanced back at me, her eyes frantic and whole demeanor filled with disorder. Then she shook her head, trying to play it off, but totally failing. “No one.”
I snorted. “Right. Because I run from no one all the time.”
“We’re not running.”
“Uh huh,” I murmured. We were totally running as we wound around a group of loud, drunk guys talking in a cluster so she could use them to provide a shield for us. “And now we’re not hiding, right?”
With an irritated glance, she waved a hand. “It’s just…some guy.”
I nodded, suddenly understanding. “Ex idiot who can’t accept no, or straight-up stalker?”
She sighed. “Ex.”
“Ah.” I nodded once before frowning and glancing sharply at her. “Wait, how recently of an ex are we talking, here? You weren’t dating him when you and I—”
“What? No! Good God, no. He and I have been through for way over a year. Almost two years. Before you and I ever met. Before I even met your brother.”