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“What’s your end game with Emmy?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Don’t bullshit me, Abbot.”
I grin, liking his protective streak. Too bad he’s too late, because after tonight, Emmy will see me as her very own white knight.
“Listen, we clearly got off on the wrong foot.” I raise my hands in a placating gesture. “Why don’t we start over, yeah?”
He regards me with a snarled lip and keen eye. “You hurt her, and I’ll fucking end you, do you understand? I know you’ve been messing with her out of some sick sense of loyalty to your friend, but that girl? She’s already survived a lifetime of pain and betrayal, and if you add even an ounce to her suffering, I’ll take great joy in tearing you apart. Got it?”
“Let’s take a breath, big guy. No one’s going to hurt Emmalyn. I was running a fool’s errand and have seen the error of my ways. I’m trying like hell to make up for my less than stellar behavior, but having it pointed out isn’t really doing me any favors, you know?”
His facial features relax slightly as he stares me down, waiting for me to crack. But I’m rock solid. “Fine. But I meant what I said.”
“I have no doubts.”
He tips his head my way before turning and making his way back to where the rest of our group is congregated.
Emmalyn catches my eye from where she’s pressed into the wall. I raise my cup to her, signaling I’m getting a refill. She nods and breaks away from her friends and joins me. “Me, too?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Absolutely.”
I keep my back to her, using my broad shoulders as a shield, and fix us each another drink, which she readily accepts and tosses back. “So good!”
“Glad you like it.”
“I like you,” she murmurs before slapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s okay, Emmalyn, I like you, too.”
“You can call me Emmy, you know?”
“Okay, Emmy. Tell me something?”
“What?”
I loop an arm around her waist and draw her in close. “I don’t know. Anything.”
She shudders against me, her pupils dilating. “I was scared of the dark when I was eight.”
Not what I thought she was going to say. “What made you stop being afraid?”
She swallows hard and looks me dead in the eye. “I learned there are far scarier things lurking in the light.”
Her words have me reeling. They’re so unexpected and so packed full of painful truth, I can’t even begin to process them. Not here, anyway.
At my lack of reply, she laughs awkwardly and raises her cup my way. “Refill?”
“Sure are thirsty,” I murmur and she shrugs.
Two drinks later, Emmalyn is well on her way to drunk and swaying her hips in time with the music pounding out of the speakers.
“Stell!” Emmalyn shouts loud enough to pierce my eardrums.
“Are you okay, babe?” Her roommate takes in Emmalyn, in all her drunken glory, worry creasing her brow.
“Amazing!” Emmalyn twirls in a wide circle, knocking into more than one person. “I missed you!” She tries pulling Stella into a hug, but the now-angry blonde holds her at an arm’s length.
“Have you been drinking?” She turns to me, her eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Has she been drinking?”
“It’s a party,” I say, as if that explains it all. Hopefully she doesn’t push, because I wouldn’t put it past her to castrate me for feeding her best friend drinks all night.
“Oh my God! I love this song!” Emmalyn shrieks, waving her arms over her head.
Stella sends a glacial glare my way. “What are you playing at?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“She. Doesn’t. Drink,” Stella grits through clenched teeth.
“It’s fine. She’s fine.”
“I swear, if you let anything—”
Before she can finish her threat, my drunk little mouse stumbles between us, draping herself across my chest. “Dance with me? Please? Let’s dance, Sterling!”
I raise my brows at Stella before clasping Emmalyn’s hand in mine.
“Show me your moves.”
Without even a glance back at her friend, she pulls me out onto the makeshift dance floor, moving with zero inhibitions.
I keep a hand on her hip as she shimmies and rolls her body against mine. She may not cheer anymore, but her body definitely remembers.
It’s a little amusing, watching her dance all on her own, until she starts grinding against my dick like a bitch in heat. Suddenly, my logical reason is being replaced with lust.
I can feel my jeans growing tighter as she pops and locks and pretty much uses me as her personal pole.
Fuuuuuck.
I know I mixed her drinks with the intention of loosening her up, but I meant her lips, not her legs.
“You feel so good,” she singsongs, grabbing my free hand and placing it on her belly. “So strong and big.”
The temptation to sample what she’s offering is strong. Really fucking strong.
