My beer is back in my hand. I don’t hold back, taking two large gulps to wash away the feeling of his skin on mine. Ches walks back just in time with a pep in his step. He spots the man eying me and slaps him on the back.
“Walker, my man. How have you been?”
Walker spreads his stance, crossing his arms across his chest. “Doing alright. How about yourself? Things well on the ranch?”
I can’t believe he’s acting like nothing just happened, trying to chat it up with his ‘buddy’ he was trying to cross behind his back. I slouch further into my chair, chasing down my feelings with the rest of my beer. One could say I’m a wee bit drunk now. I hate being the person to make a scene in public, so I keep my lips sealed and let the boys chat it out while the alcohol buzzes over my skin.
Hunter notices my empty beer glass and slips another on the table, collecting my empty one. “This one’s on the house, babe.” She glares at Walker when she leaves.
Do I need another beer? Probably not. But it was free, so does it really count? I drown out the boy's boring conversation, my attention drawn over to the dance floor. Old disco lights flash on the black and white checkered dance floor. People are lined up in rows, dancing to the music. It looks pretty fun, something I would probably try on a night I didn’t indulge in so much alcohol.
My thoughts wander. I imagine large, calloused handsgrabbing me by the hips, leading me through the steps, the warmth of a body pressed up behind me.Hisbody. Breath fanning on the back of my neck when he leans in, whispering dirty things in my ear like he always does when we are together.
“Grayson?” Ches says, a little confused.
My head snaps to Chesney’s, my pulse rising. Did I say that out loud? I don’t have time to dwell on the feeling before I track Ches’ eyes over my shoulder, looking at the door.
“Hey, man. I thought you said you couldn’t make?—”
Thwack.
Walker hits the ground faster than I can track the movement. I jump from my chair, looking around only to come face to face with a seething Grayson. He’s vibrating on the spot, looking down at Walker like he wants to murder him.
“What the fuck, Grayson?” Ches yells, helping Walker back to his feet. His nose is bleeding, and he tries to stop it with his hand. It pours like a faucet down his arm.
“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you next time,” Grayson threatens, his chest heaving.
What the hell has gotten into this man? He barges in here like a knight in shining armor, and for what? What does he know? Why does he care? And what the hell happened with his ‘plans’ for the night?
“Excuse you?” Walker yells, spitting blood onto the floor.
Grayson takes a step towards him, pointing a finger at his chest. “You. Heard. Me. If I see you even lay a hand on a single piece of hair on her head, I will bury you so far under the ground, the wild animals won’t even be able to dig you up.”
“What the hell are you going on about?” Chesney asks.
Grayson whirls on Chesney, shooting him a menacing glare. “You were supposed to be protecting her. Where thefuckwere you? Huh?”
Chesney grabs Grayson by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. “Whoa! Slow your roll. Calm down and tell me what the fuckis going on.”
Grayson shoves Chesney off him, reaching deep into his pockets with shaky hands to pull his phone out. He shoves the screen in Chesney’s face.
Chesney takes the phone, zooming in on the screen. “What the fuck?” he shouts, dropping the phone to swing a punch at Walker himself. “You put your hands on my baby cousin?” he shouts. He grabs Walker’s shirt and drags him to the door, leaving a trail of blood.
I gape at the three men. What the hell? I’ve never liked fighting—quite the opposite, actually. My hands tremble while everyone stares at us like we’re a soap opera. I’m used to being the one blending into the background, getting lost in the crowd. Ihatethis feeling.
Warm hands envelope mine, holding them steady. “Hey. Shhhh, you’re okay, honey. Breathe for me. Can you do that?” I nod, taking one large breath with him and then releasing it. “Good girl.Another one.” I let him guide my breaths in time with his until they even out.
I finally have the courage to look up at him. “Why did you do that? How did you know he touched me?”
I search his face for an answer, but then I realize the state he’s in. His face is a mangled, bruised, and bloodied mess. There’s a giant gash actively bleeding above his eye, dissecting his eyebrow. His pale face is swollen and bruised to shit.
I slowly reach up and brush my finger over the gash. “What happened?” I whisper.
He flinches when I make contact, turning from me. “It’s nothing.”
“Grayson, look at me. That isnotnothing.” I point at his face. “Who hurt you?”
“I fell getting out of my truck,” he mumbles dismissively.
