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"Oh, I can handle myself, punk. Come at me.”
I've finally let go of my faux girlfriend and taken a step forward, squaring my shoulders to make it clear I'm not to be messed with. If this loser wants a fight, then he's getting one.
Adam, resembling a feeble worm, attempts a punch, but I swiftly dodge and counter with a powerful blow to his jaw, sending him stumbling back. Gasps fill the crowd as they watch the intense confrontation.
I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as Adam staggers to his feet, a mixture of surprise and humiliation on his face. His attempt to regain his composure is feeble, and I take advantage of the moment, launching a swift kick to his stomach. The impact sends him crashing to the ground all over again, clutching his abdomen in pain. This time, the crowd bursts into laughter, with a few cheers and applause, further humiliating my rival.
“This isn't over," he mewls, typical of those with bruised egos trying to appear strong. “Not by a long shot, fucker! I’m going to fuck you, and that slut up!”
And then, he turns and stomps toward the exit, almost stumbling down to the floor while on his way out.
I turn around, glad to discover the gorgeous blonde is still standing there, an unreadable look in those stunning blue eyes. This can be the start of something fun, something exciting.
“So, gorgeous, do I get your name now?”
two
Tyley
God, I can't believe Adam is at it again. I'm not going to let this jerk bully me into submission. That's not who I am. And I don't need another bulky man jumping in and saving the day, either.
I can't deny that watching Adam get his ass handed to him is more than a bit satisfying.
As the crowd begins to scatter, my so-called hero turns and offers me one of those winning smirks I'm certain most girls swoon for. I'm not so easily swayed, though. I've been around my fair share of fighters, and most of them fit neatly in the same mold.
"Well, aren't you confident? Who said I'd be introducing myself?"
I raise an eyebrow, sizing him up. Tall, muscular, and undoubtedly smug. His biceps are as big as my head and covered in sleeve tattoos that add another layer of danger to his already intimidating appearance. Typical, no big surprise there. But there's something about him, something I can't quite pinpoint. Maybe it's the way those icy blue eyes glint in the dim light of the club, hiding a mischievousness that intrigues me. Or perhaps it's the way he carries himself, that air of cockiness mixed with an underlying earnestness I haven't seen very often in these circles. Either way, I have to admit, he's got my attention.
His smirk grows wider, and he steps toward me, closer and closer, as if trying to size me up. See if I'll take a step back, blush, or quiver under his shadow. I don't move, and he leans down, allowing his warm breath to tickle my ear as he whispers into it. "Confidence is my middle name, sweetheart. And I don't like to waste time."
"Well, Mr. Confident, I'm on the clock right now, so I need to go back to my post."
"I'll give you my name if you give me yours," he offers, and I have to laugh at that.
“That wouldn’t be a fair trade-off.”
“Why not, doll face?”
"I know who you are, Grayson Walker. Honestly, I’m pretty darned sure that you love the fact that everyone else in this club knows your name, too."
The corners of Grayson's lips tug upwards, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, come on. We're supposed to be dating, aren't we? That's what we told that jackass, Adam, anyways. I've got to know the name of the woman I'm going out with."
"I really should get back to work."
"I think you can go off the clock now. Your brand will be far happier to see your picture in the tabloids next to me than greeting a few drunk people at the bar, trust me."
As bold as any of the guys I have to deal with on a regular basis, he turns around and motions toward one of the men in his entourage. "Yo, Mike, can you bring us two drinks? A whiskey for me and the mystery lady...?"
I roll my eyes, but I’d be lying if I claimed I wasn’t intrigued by his audacity. "Fine, but only one drink. I don't want to encourage this stubborn streak you're showing. After all, a man who can't take no for an answer is really crappy company. And dangerous to boost."
"Trust me, doll face, I don’t need to force anyone to enjoy my company or my bed. So, what are you having?”
“At least you’re asking. Most guys would just order something fruity and silly for me.”
Grayson Walker exudes an air of reckless confidence that draws me in. How stupid is that? But those eyes, so blue it’s easy to get lost in them, lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter.
He leans against the bar with a casualness that most guys can’t pull off. The dim lighting casts shadows across his chiseled features, giving him an aura of mystery and allure that’s hard to look away from.
