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He groaned internally. Nothing, he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her anymore. Their falling out was brief, but it was enough. After thinking about it for a while, he wasn’t sure why they stayed friends for so long other than the obligation to the length of the friendship. She was rude, intrusive, and loved to kick at crap where there wasn’t any.
“Hi, Tricia.” If he really had to, he planned to keep this brief and to the point. Whatever she had to say he had no interest in it.
“You’re making a big mistake,” her words slurred beyond recognition, but somehow he was able to translate. He rolled his eyes and pushed past her.
“Thanks for the input.” She caught his arm and he audibly groaned in frustration. “I really don’t have time for this.”
“She’s such a bitch. No one understands why you like her. She isn’t even that pretty.”
God. What was with these people? Joliet and everyone around her were determined to put Tully down and it pissed him the hell off. They couldn’t be more wrong about her.
“Screw off, Tricia.” He said, and she gasped, her hand flinching away in offense. “Don’t ever talk about my—”
His girlfriend. Standing about twenty feet away looking very upset and a little too tipsy. Worst of all, thatguywas towering over her and putting his hands on her arms and pushing her against a wall.
Everything around him blew into a red blur and all he could see was Tully flinching as her back hit the wall and Nathan was plowing through people. He didn’t care that someone dropped their drink.
His ears rang and he couldn’t hear anything anyone said over it filling every thought in his head other than the one that said,Tully needs you.
Her idiot ex was drunk.
Drunker than drunk.
He smelled so strong that even the spilled alcohol on the carpet didn’t reek as much as him. Nathan didn’t care though; he just grabbed his shoulder and yanked him so hard he lost his balance and landed hard on the ground.
“Jesus!” someone yelped.
Nathan didn’t mean to practically throw him across the room, he just wanted to get him off Tully. It wasn’t his fault the guy could barely stand straight.
He turned back to Tully, his hands hovering over her side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, startled by everything and still he could tell she wasn’t quite comprehending it all through her foggy mind. He wanted to touch her arm comfortingly, it’s what he would do for anyone else, but she just had scummy hands all over her so now was not the best time to cross that line. “Are you alright?” He lowered his voice, and her mouth was open, blinking slowly. “Did he hurt you?” She shook her head. Nathan relaxed a bit and sighed.
Not for long though because another hand grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and sloppily pulled him backwards. Unlike Erik, he caught himself before he fell. “What’re you doing pushing me ‘round, huh, Rondeau?”
Nathan’s jaw clenched. “Why the hell areyoutouchingmygirlfriend, scumbag?”
“I had her first. Besides, there’s plenty t’ go around.”
While what Tricia said about Tully upset him,thismade Nathan silly with rage.
He chuckled, actually chuckled, harsh and dangerous, then hissed and shot his fist straight into dickhead’s jaw. It made a deep thunk and a searing pain shot up his knuckles, but it did the job.
The fight was over before it began.
People gasped and laughed as Erik fell to the ground, knocked out cold.
Nathan’s hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it back with his hand, panting like he’d run a mile.
“Holy shit, dude.” Tommy was next to him, laughing hysterically. “You killed him.”
Nathan ignored him and turned to Tully. “Do you want to go?”
She looked up to him, then the slightest hint of a smile graced her lips and she nodded. Nathan held his hand out in a silent offer, and to his surprise, she accepted it and he led her out. Stephanie followed and he told Kimmy to bring along Tommy because they were both too drunk drive home themselves, so he was going to take them.
They all piled into his car. Stephanie, Tommy and Kimmy in the back. Nathan and Tully up front.
Tommy rolled down the window and stuck his head out as Kimmy sang along to the Prince song on the radio. Stephanie, who was a little more sober than the other two but not by much, joined in on harmony. The only two not participating in an after-party singalong were the front-seat occupants.
“How’s your hand?” Tully asked. She leaned in so he could hear her over the rambunctious bunch, but she eyed his red knuckles clutched to the wheel. He opened his hand and closed it, grimacing at the sting.
