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“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help a brother out?” He pouts out his bottom lip.
“Don’t put her in the middle of your cock and her best friend,” Treyton interjects.
“Her, my cock, and her best friend. Damn, I like the sound of that.”
“You trying to make a move on my girl, Beck? Because I’m not above beating the fuck out of you.”
There’s that phrase again…My girl.
“Calm down there, killer.” He laughs. “I saw you stake your claim tonight, as did just about everyone else in the room. You two were giving everyone quite the show.”
My breath hitches.
I may not have cared in the moment, but now I’m suddenly hyper aware of every set of eyes in the room, several of which I still catch looking in our direction.
Great…
“So, how about that last name?” Beckett turns back to me.
“Sorry, no can do.” I hold my free hand up. “Best friend code and all.”
“Which is why you have to give it to me,” he argues.
“Not sure I’m following your logic.”
“As her best friend, it’s your duty to make sure she has access to the best sex of her life any time she wants it.”
I snort out a laugh.
“If she wanted that, she would have given you her number.”
“What do I have to do? I’ll beg.” He lowers himself to his knees in front of me.
If we didn’t have a crowd watching us before, they sure as hell are watching now. I can’t imagine it’s every day you see a man like Beckett Everest on his knees, begging.
They probably think I’m some kind of sorceress. First Treyton can’t keep his hands off of me, now Beckett is on his knees in front of me. If this were the seventeenth century they’d probably have a noose around my neck right about now. Because witchcraft could be the only explanation how a Plain Jane like me could ever garner such attention.
“Please?” He presses his hands together, pouting out his bottom lip so dramatically I’m tempted to pinch it. “Please. Please. Please.”
I shake my head, not sure how to proceed.
“Get up, Beck.” Treyton sighs.
“Nope. Not until she gives me the name.”
I know Bonnie will probably kill me for this, but if he’s willing to work this hard for her last name, maybe she left a bigger impression on him than she realized.
“Carter,” I whisper, as if that gives me any deniability.
“Bonnie Carter.” He smiles to himself.
“Now, are you finished?” Treyton shakes his head as Beckett stands.
“Are you?” Beckett’s suggestive gaze jumps between the two of us.
“Not even close,” Treyton replies, his expression void of any humor.
“In that case, I’m out. I’ve got a certain disappearing woman to track down.” He winks at me. “Thanks, Clarke.”
