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Double fucking standards.
“Stop?” Bella snapped, glaring at me.
“Yes.” Setting her hand back down on her thigh, I shifted out from beneath her. “I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired, Johnny!” she bit out. “And you’re never in the mood anymore.”
I wonder fucking why, I thought to myself, but made no move to answer her. I was careful with my words around girls. They could—and would—be misconstrued to her advantage.
Drunk as I was, I remembered exactly what I had been taught at the Academy, and this girl wasn’t going to get a rise out of me.
Not tonight, Satan.
Shrugging, I cast a bleary gaze around our table.
Our friends were watching. No surprises there.
My gaze landed on Gibsie and I gave him my best you’re a fucking bastard glare.
His returning grimace was an apologetic one.
“Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you,” Bella demanded, voice high and pitchy, letting me know, even in my drunken state, that she was in worse condition.
“I’m not ignoring you,” I replied, trying to remain calm through the haziness.
“Yes,” she hissed, voice rising. “You are!”
“No, Bella.” I released a weary sigh. “I’m not.”
“Fine.” Cupping my face with both her hands, Bella dragged my face down to hers, pressing her mouth to mine. “Then prove it,” she growled before smashing her lips to mine.
Because of the alcohol coursing through my veins, it took me an extra few seconds to register what was happening. The feel of her tongue sliding against my lips was like a douse of water.
I jerked my head away, but she had a death grip on my hair, keeping my lips on hers.
Temper rising, I stood abruptly, knocking the table in the process, and thankfully freeing myself from her hold.
Drinks smashed to the floor, glass shattering around us, drawing the whole room’s attention to our table.
“What the fuck, Johnny!” Bella screeched, glaring up at me from her seat. “What’s your problem?”
“When I tell you no,” I growled, wiping the back of my mouth as I glared down at her, “I fucking mean no!”
“I just wanted you to kiss me,” she screamed. “Is that too much to ask?”
“I don’t want to fucking kiss you!” I roared back, losing control of my temper. “I don’t want your mouth on mine. I don’t want your hands on my body. Because I don’t fucking want you!”
I regretted my words immediately. But it was too late.
Bella burst into tears, and of course, I was the bastard who made her cry.
Dirty looks from half a dozen girls at the table were all directed at me and I was done for the night.
Releasing a low growl, I ran my hand through my hair and staggered out of the barmaid’s way as she shoved past me with a dustpan and brush.
Stalking outside, I dragged my phone out of my jeans pocket and called for a taxi, relieved as hell when the voice on the other end said, “Five minutes.”
I needed out of here and far away from my poor decisions. The poorest of those being that dangerous fucking girl I’d tangled myself up with.
