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“Ignore her. I’m Ivy.” She holds her hand out to me, which I take and swallow it up in my larger one.
“Nice to meet you both. I take it you’re the friends Gia plans on going out with?”
Parker reaches out and runs her hand down my chest, which I stop when it reaches the belt on my jeans.
“Cut it out Parker.” Jarrod pushes himself from the wall and the closer he gets the more Ivy seems to grow nervous.
“Gia is to do what Hunter says, which means when you’re with her you do too. It’s for your own safety and I don’t want anything happening to either of you. You both okay with that?”
Both girls acknowledge Jarrod with a nod of their heads.
“Where’s your bodyguard?” Ivy asks Jarrod, her concern for him written all over her face.
“I don’t need one.”
“Of course you do. What if it has something to do with your work? You’re at risk just as much as Gia. You can’t ignore this.”
This is the most enjoyment I’ve had since I’d been in Lexington at Club Kenza teasing Rosie.
There is an obvious relationship between Ivy and Jarrod but what the relationship is, is unclear to me. Ivy is obviously concerned about Jarrod’s safety and its obvious Jarrod wants to ignore it. She moves closer to him and grabs his arm. “Please Jarrod, nothing can happen to you.”
I raise an eyebrow as it all clicks. She isn’t concerned because he’s her friend’s father. She’s concerned because she has real feelings for the guy.
Clearing his throat, Jarrod replies, “I’ll think about it, Ivy.” He reaches out, his hand hovering as though he’s going to caress her face, and then he pulls it back, shoving both hands into his pockets. His facial features pulled tight. “If you have to go out tonight, stay together and remember to do what Hunter asks.” He faces me, “I’ll trust your judgment.” With that being said he leaves me with the two girls.
Parker’s gaze is pure lust but Ivy has lost all interest in me—her eyes remain on the door that Jarrod has disappeared behind.
“What’s going on?” Gia asks from the top of the stairs, causing me to whip my head around. When our gazes collide, it takes everything in me to keep my tongue in my mouth.
She is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen with her legs going on for miles. The slim fitting dress she’s wearing clings to every curve she has, not leaving anything to the imagination. Some women would probably look cheap in an outfit like that, but she makes it look classy. Her dark hair is in some sort of twist thing that falls over her right shoulder and down her ample chest. A light layer of make-up covers her flawless skin, and those blue eyes of hers sparkle.
I mentally have to shake the image of her from my head before I become even more aroused. I need to get laid. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been relieved by anything other than my own fist.
“Where are you going looking like that?” I ask once I’ve found my voice.
Gia rolls her eyes. “Are you for real? You sound just like my father.”
I scowl because I really don’t like the idea of sounding like her father, but I also don’t like the reason why I don’t like that.
Putting one foot in front of the other, I walk upstairs and stop with mere inches separating us. “I’m not your father. I’m going to be telling you to do things that are going to piss you off, and unlike your father, I won’t bend.”
“You’re an ass,” Gia whispers in an angry tone before turning her back to me. “I’ll grab my purse then I’m ready to go,” she calls down to her friends. I glance back and see them staring up at me, pure amusement clear on their faces.
4
Gia
Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling. The only guy to ever get my engine to overheat like that is my frigging father! This is the first clue I have that I need to stay away from him and it’s really the only clue I need. I sure as hell don’t want to be attracted to someone that treats me the same way as my father does. I’m drinking quite heavily and yes it is against what Hunter suggested, but I ignore him.
He’s a dark, brooding guy and since we’ve been at the club, he’s been sitting at the bar watching—no—glaring at me. So much so that none of the guys I usually dance with have been anywhere near me. I love t
o dance. Sometimes I’ll dance with the children at the hospital where I volunteer. And because of Mr. Brooding Hottie at the bar, I’m on my lonesome. Yeah, I feel like a wallflower.
I sigh and decide enough is enough. I’m going to dance, and if he wants to glare at everyone who offers then he can be my dance partner. He has no choice, right?
Grinning, I start to walk toward him with determination written across my face. I know that the minute he realizes he’s my target by the tightening of his jaw and the twitch to the side of his eye. His whole body seems to tense as I stand in front of him with a stomach full of butterflies.
“I want to dance,” I tell him before I lose my courage.
