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On its face, those are some pretty threatening words. Add in the fact that he’s a giant hulking over me, I should have some fear kicking in right now that might make me listen to my self-preservation instincts.
But I’m not afraid at all.
If anything, I’m pissed.
Rather than back down the steps, I lean right into his space, chin lifted high, my chest puffed out like I’m a badass.
He blinks in surprise.
“I know your type, Mr. Highsmith. You think you can intimidate and bully people with just your sheer size and nasty disposition. But I’ve been pushed around by people who are a million times more vicious than you, and you don’t scare me in the slightest.”
This would be the part when, if he were truly a bad person, he’d push me off the porch. Possibly hit me.
Instead, his eyebrows draw inward as if he can’t comprehend that I’m not running with my tail tucked. He regards me for a long moment before mumbling something unintelligible. I’m guessing it’s a curse aimed my way, but he turns and walks back into his house, slamming the door behind him.
“Aaagghh.” I ball my fists up and stamp my feet in utter frustration.
Asshole deluxe!
I pound down the steps, marching with purpose to my car. “I’m a naturalist. I’m a modern-day Snow White,” I mimic his words, except in a high-pitched, whiny voice before dropping down to my normal voice. “All the dumbass has to do is look around three hundred and sixty degrees, and he’ll see he’s smack in the middle of the woods. What more does he want?”
I jerk my car door handle but then freeze as an idea occurs to me.
Modern-day Snow White, huh? A completely ridiculous claim, but maybe I can put him to the test.
Sliding into my seat, I whip out my phone and send a group text to Ann Marie, Hayley, and Erica.I need your help. Shenanigans at midnight. Help me vanquish the asshole.
I hit Send. None of them will have a clue what that means because I haven’t yet told anyone about my fresh new hell with this guy. My phone dings with reply texts, wanting to know who the asshole is that they’ll be riding into battle against.
Grinning, I reply to the group.Be at my house at 8PM. We have prep work to do.
CHAPTER 6
Coen
When you’re drunk,you make stupid decisions. It’s the only plausible excuse.
And yet, in the recesses of my mind, I’m still rational enough to know that being drunk isn’t really an excuse.
There can be no excuse if I go through with this. It’s wrong, bottom line.
It doesn’t matter that my speech is slurred or that I can’t stand straight without my hand gripping the door casing. It has no bearing that Darcy is wearing a dress so low cut I can practically see her navel and that her breasts are so exposed, I can definitely see the rose coloring around her nipples.
It sure as fuck has no bearing on the situation that she’s on her knees before me, working my pants open to pull out my traitorous dick that is surprisingly hard, despite how trashed I am.
The only thing that should matter, and yet I know I’m going to overlook it, is that Darcy belongs to my teammate, Kyle Ralston.
Or rather, she used to belong to him.
They’re broken up, but that doesn’t matter when it comes to friends and teammates. You don’t go where another guy has been before.
Ever.
No matter how drunk you are.
It’s bro code, and there’s never a deeper code than between me and my teammates.
Darcy’s slender hand wraps around my cock, and not a single fucking sensation is dulled by all the vodka I drank tonight. I stare down at her through blurry eyes and I think she smiles at me. An attack of conscience almost has me pulling away, but then her mouth is on me, and it’s hot, and wet, and she’s sucking hard.
