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“Steve! Someone might hear you!” She giggles a third time, and hearing that name puts me on edge.
Zeroing in on his face, I quickly realize this is Steve, the one who was with Adley last weekend. The tequila seemed to clear him from my mind but seeing him now brings back the hatred for him full force. Chelsea told me it’s an on again, off again situation, but the way the mood changed when Steve showed up was enough to tell me he’snot a good guy. And for whatever reason, Adley is putting up with this jerk.
The feeling that comes over me is dominant. Territorial. Protective. I want to knock this guy’s teeth out. Adley is nothing short of perfection, and for this loser to be stringing her along makes me see red.
Without thinking, I pull up my text thread with Chelsea.
Me: Hey. Q for you.
The bubbles pop up, and her reply is instant.
Chelsea: Hey. A for you. What’s up?
Debating how to ask this, I slam the second shot down and nod for a third. The tequila seems to sort me out and gives me balls to ask.
Me: Your sister still dating Steve?
I watch as the bubbles start and stop.
Chelsea: Are you interested?
Me: Fuck yea, I am. But back to Steve. She with him?
Chelsea: Bill. Please don’t do anything.
Me: I’m not doing anything. I’m asking a question.
I’m getting annoyed.Just answer the question, Chelsea.
Chelsea: Something happened last weekend when he was here visiting. But I haven’t had a chance to get the story. Ad went back to our moms to help her but I’m expecting her back at my house tomorrow.
So that’s why he’s out. While Adley is away, the dirtbag will play.
Chelsea: Bill, where are you?
Me: Out. Thanks for the info. Ttyl
I place my phone down on the bartop, ignoring the buzzing signifying she’s still texting.
I take the shot in front of me. It races through my veins and makes me feel invincible.
“Steve?”
The guy looks up, and the woman turns toward me. “Do I know you?”
“No. But I know your girlfriend.”
The woman’s head snaps back to him. “Steve?”
Color drains from his face and his lips pull into a straight line. “I think you got the wrong guy, pal.” He studies me briefly, then drops his eyes from mine as he picks up his drink, which tells me he remembers me.
I stand and retort, “No, I don’t think I do.”
Pulling out my wallet, I throw a couple of bills on the bar to cover my tab and tip, then approach Steve and his date, tilting my head slightly as I say, “You know Adley, right?” His eyes narrow the slightest. “Gorgeous hair, full lips. A body built for fucking.”
He stands abruptly, knocking his stool over, getting right in my face. I stare down at him. It’s a fraction of an inch, but I’m bigger and stronger, and he knows it.
“Did I strike a nerve?”
