As the busy hotel manager passes the catcalling assholes, things get interesting.One of their hands shoots out to grab the manager’s ass.
If they did that with the waiter, I missed it.Still, it would explain why nobody wants to serve them.
The manager jumps with a yelp and swings around to the four drunk men, who are probably each at least a decade younger.Early thirties, on the outside.Twenties, even.My quick check into Westlake Monroe told me he’s my age, about a month older.For a second, though, he’s a scared kid, his face smarting at the humiliation of getting grabbed by some over-sauced, moneyed-up Chads.
“Sir, if you can’t behave appropriately, I’m going to have to have security escort you out.”
He stalks away to a chorus of “Oh, security, huh?”and “It’s hard to find good help these days,” and even one “Do you know who I am?”For his part, Westlake seems more concerned with talking to whoever’s on the other end of the two-way radio than the groping.
On the other side of the pool, Ravi’s drying off with a towel.A few of his friends gather up pizza boxes while Dean wraps his daughter in a child-size robe.When they circle the perimeter of the pool and come my way, I do my best to remain invisible.
So far he hasn’t noticed me watching him.I’m not sure why Channing hasn’t said something, but there’s no need to rock the boat.
Except the pieces of shit at the table in front of me are at it again.They must recognize someone in Ravi’s group, because one of them calls out, “Hey, babe, how much for a quick trip up to my room?”
Dean gives the man an ugly look, scooping up his daughter and redirecting his path so there’s a row of beach chairs between the two of them and the table of jackals.Ravi, though, who’s walking ahead and focused on his conversation with Troy, doesn’t see them until one has reached out to grab his arm.
“Hey, babe.I asked you a question.What, you’re too good for us when you’re not wearing your little shorts?”
Fuck.These guys knowthem.
Before Channing can react, I’m out of my chair, one hand clamped on the piece of shit’s shoulder.
“You’re going to need to take your hand off him right fucking now, or I will break every bone in your arm one at a time.”
The guy gives me a hateful sneer.“What’s it to you?He’s just a fucking whor?—”
I tighten my grip.
I’m rewarded with the quick release of Ravi’s arm, and even a satisfying wince on the dudebro’s part.But when my gaze travels up to Ravi’s face, I’m met with a cascade of emotions.Confusion.Rage.Disgust.A hint of fear, before he wipes it all away.All the earlier laughter is gone.
I don’t want him afraid of me, but I need him safe.I’m in the right here.I won’t apologize.Doesn’t stop my gut from twisting at the way he’s looking at me.Who were those emotions directed at?Has he written me off or is he pretending?
How do I tell him that he may not be my responsibility anymore, but I don’t know who I am if I’m not keeping tabs on him?I might hate myself for it, but not enough to stop.
“Ravi…”
I’m not sure what I was planning to say since I hadn’t planned on him even knowing I was here.It doesn’t matter anyway because he only lifts his chin into the air and walks away.
Chapter Nineteen
Ravi
The nightof the auction I’m full of knots and butterflies.I’ve been nervous before.Devastated.Horrified.Freaked out.What I’m feeling as I stand backstage cuddling Mr.Cat (I’m not good at naming things, I know) is something new.My muscles are strung tight, waiting for something to go wrong.The whole situation’s a little dizzying.I think I’m finally realizing I’m trapped.And I’ve done it to myself.
Still, I’m…resigned.The doors are locked.The train’s leaving the station.No stopping it now.
“How you holding up?”Simon sidles up beside me.
I nearly hit the ceiling.“Holy sh—Simon.You almost made my heart explode out of my chest.”After a closer look, I see he’s wearing a nice suit and everything.“How did you get them to let you back here?”
Simon makes a “who cares?”gesture.“Sebastian invested in the club when it first opened.Comes with some perks.”
“Oh.Nice.”
I guess?I don’t know.
Beyond the curtain they’ve put up to shield me from viewers until the auction starts, the smells of alcohol and cologne and the chatter and laughter of people who are going to be bidding on me are sending my stomach on a roller-coaster ride.
