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His mouth quirked up at the side and then branched out into a cocky grin. “I know I’m taking you out of here, sweetheart.” He took me by the hand and pulled.

“No, Neil!” I dug my feet in and balked against the force of him. It wasn’t easy resisting his size and strength. I think inappropriate things at terrible times and was suddenly desperate to know what he would feel like on top of me. He was huge and I was on the small side. Would he swallow me up with his big body? I’d be very willing to find out, of that I was certain.

His eyes flared at me when he turned back to stare. If I wasn’t mistaken, Neil was really looking at me for once. He swallowed hard, making his Adam’s apple slide along his throat. I wished I could put my lips on his throat and keep them there. I was annoyed with him and secretly intrigued by his attentions at the same time. Hell, he was so damned gorgeous.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re spitting mad, Cherry.” He emphasized his nickname for me with a confident smirk, his eyes owning me. “Beautiful and utterly perfect.”

You’re utterly perfect… I’d heard him say those words about me before. I wondered…was it even possible for him to believe such a thing? No way, right?

“You’re beautiful too, but you’re an immensely arrogant arsehole right now.”

“Is that so?” He leaned forward just a bit, putting himself into my space.

I hiccupped and nodded, feeling dizzier than I had a moment ago, instantly intimidated.

“You’re out in the pub at night pissing drunk.” His jaw ticked. “I’m not leaving you here, Cherry.”

God damn, he said it again, so I just lost it. “And, I told you not to call me that anymore!” I took a step, stumbled on the chair rail, right into his hard chest. He steadied me against him and I resisted the urge to bury my face in his shirt. It was damn hard not to. I really needed my nose buried in his shirt so I could memorize his scent.

“Okay, okay, settle down, girl. I won’t call you Cherry anymore if you hate it so much, but only if you let me take you home. You need your bed.”

He brought a hand up to the back of my head and stroked down my hair. And he could’ve called me by the name of any fruit in the world right now…apple, grape, kumquat, banana…and I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t have even noticed, because he was touching me. Neil had his hands on me.

No, I need your bed. I lifted my eyes to his, my palms were flat on his chest, and I felt his heart thumping under my fingers. He focused on my mouth, and for a moment I got the feeling he was thinking about kissing me. My heart pounded so hard I’m sure my body must be moving from the force of it.

“Who do you want that you cannot have?” he whispered carefully, his eyes searing and dark, begging me to say. If I wasn’t so stubborn I might have spilled my guts right then and there, telling him every single detail of every nice thing he’d ever done for me growing up, and how I didn’t remember a time when I didn’t love him.

I shook my head at him, feeling tears beginning to wet my eyes.

“Tell me—”

I inhaled quickly and turned my head away, just in time to see Denny step into the pub and lock eyes on me. “Oh God,” I moaned.

“Baby, you came,” he said, rushing over and trying to pull me into his arms. Denny’s relief at seeing me waiting at the bar for him was clearly apparent on his arrogant face.

“No, Denny, don’t.” I had just put my hand out to keep him off me when Neil stepped up.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, Tompkins. Leave off her.” Neil glowered down at my ex with a look of such loathing that Denny wasn’t the only one surprised by the open hostility. Neil looked like he could make Denny bleed and would enjoy the hell out of ensuring that there was a big puddle of the stuff once he was done. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Neil was behaving as if he were jealous of Denny.

I had to be incredibly drunk and my thought processes impaired. Why would Neil act like that over me and some bloke I’d already dumped?

“Elaina? Please baby, just listen. That tart meant nothing to me—” Denny ignored Neil’s directive and tried to reach for me again.

I realized then, that my former boyfriend was as incredibly stupid as I was drunk.

“Obviously your life doesn’t either, you ignorant prick.” Neil blocked Denny’s attempted grab for me, stopping him cold. “You’re not a very good listener, Tompkins. I told you she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore. Get. Lost.”

As Denny and Neil squared off, a wave of nausea so overpowering took hold of me, and I knew I’d be hideously sick. I clamped a hand over my mouth and slammed myself toward the loo, so incredibly grateful the door wasn’t very far away from the bar. Both men let me go.

Thank God for the little blessings.

4

As I heaved over the toilet, expelling all the wine and happy-hour veggies I’d consumed while drowning my sorrows, I pined over my pathetic love life. How utterly revolting, wretched, and pitiful was I. A guy who cheated, and one who saw me o

nly as a little sister. Fuck my life.

Once I was done puking, I made my way to the sink, where I leaned on it with both hands, panting into the mirror, and gathering the strength to splash some water on my face. Neil beat on the door, and barged in a second later looking fairly dangerous. In contrast to me looking like shit.

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