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“I’ll admit I thought it would be funny, but when I saw it happen, I found it anything but.”
Abigail scoffs. “Oh yeah, why’s that?”
I grab her slim waist and pull her body flush with mine so I can lean down and whisper in her ear. “Because I realized I’m not a fan of anyone else having their hands on you, regardless if you have any intention of going home with them.”
She tilts her head back to look me in the eye. Fuck, she smells amazing. Like coconuts and desire.
“Well, Hayes, be prepared to hate what I do next.”
Her mouth is so close to mine I can practically taste the sweet champagne she’s been sipping all night. What I wouldn’t give for that taste on my lips. I’m about to lean down and take it right before she puts two hands on my chest and forcefully shoves me away.
Fuck. What did I just start?
Apparently, Abigail has made it her mission to piss me off. I’ve been sitting here for hours watching her dance and flirt with every available man in the place. Brazen little thing, especially considering where she’s at and what most of these men are probably here for.
Donovan and Kasey left about an hour ago, but Abigail decided to stay. She wasn’t done torturing me apparently. She told them she would just call a ride service when Donovan offered to send his car back. I gave him a look that conveyed I had her covered. I’m not really needed here for actual work tonight, but I’ll stay until she’s ready to go home. Or until I can’t take it anymore, whichever comes first.
I’m sitting at the bar, sipping on a scotch while I watch her dance with yet another asshole. She did take the earrings off, thank God. In hindsight, it was a shitty joke to let play out, and it certainly backfired on me spectacularly. Every once in a while, she’ll shoot me a mean smirk, almost daring me to try to ruin her fun. I’m content sitting here watching her have a good time while trying to make me jealous at the same time. Maybe content isn’t the right word, but I’ll be damned if I let her see me sweat.
There was a moment a bit ago when she seemed to forget her objective to irritate me and let herself get swept in the music and just dance. It was glorious to see her move her body in a way that wasn’t meant to be seductive but still was in the best—and worst—way. Then yet another random asshat came over and started to dance with her, reminding her of her plan to piss me off.
They’re still dancing as I turn to get a refill on my scotch. When I turn back around, the man has his hands all over her body as he invades her space. She isn’t moving out of the way, and I don’t see any signs of discomfort on her face. His face is getting closer to hers as though he thinks he’s going to lean in and kiss her and I see red. My patience for this little game has reached its limit.
I slam my drink down and stalk over to her, possessively grabbing her around the hips and tugging her back. “Okay, playtime’s over. Time to go.” The man she was dancing with gives her a questioning look, but she’s too busy staring daggers at me to notice. I shoot him a glare that he rightfully takes as his cue to leave.
“Again, what the hell?” She turns to shake off my grasp and stomps back to the booth with me hot on her heels, grabbing for her glass of champagne. Taking a long pull from the glass, she empties it before turning her attention back to me.
“Jesus, you used to call Aiden the fun police. Who’s the asshole now?” she sneers.
I take her glass and set it on the table, grabbing her purse and handing it to her.
“Were you enjoying having his fucking hands all over you? Did you want to kiss him? Maybe go home with him? Let him fuck you while you wished it was me?” I’m seething and she has a look of satisfaction on her face, like I’m giving her the exact reaction she was hoping for. I would care that she’s winning this round, but I’m too worked up at this point.
“Maybe I would have. Maybe I was ready to see how his body could move horizontally.” She smiles deviously and flips her wavy red hair over her shoulder. “Maybe I wanted him to erase your kisses. Seemed like he would have been up to the task.”
I grab her around her waist and yank her into my body, my face barely an inch from hers. “You and I know that’s not going to happen, Chucky.”
She shoves me back and glares at me. “God, you are such an unbelievable asshole.” She stomps her foot. “I’m leaving.” Abigail turns on her heels and struts toward the back exit. I easily catch up to her and grasp her hand.
“I’m taking you,” I tell her, steering her toward the private entrance.
“No, you most certainly are not,” she seethes, snatching her hand back from mine and stopping in the hallway.
“I told Donovan I would make sure you got home safe, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“I’m perfectly capable of getting home myself. I don’t need or require your assistance.” I love the way Abigail’s sweet Southern drawl comes out when she’s had it with me.“Asshole.”
Maybe sweet isn’t the right word, more like adorably menacing.
“Fine.” I raise my eyebrows. “I’ll call Donovan and have him send a car here to take you then. Never mind that I’ll probably be interrupting their much-needed sleep at this late hour. But if you insist, then I’ll do what I think is best.”
One thing about Abigail is she never wants to feel like she’s putting anyone out. Stubbornly independent, this one.
She squints her eyes and shoots me another nasty look. “Fine. Take me home then.”
I look up at the ceiling and blow out a breath. “Finally, she sees reason.” That earns me a smack in the chest with her purse as she walks past me, mumbling something under her breath about me being a drama queen. She can say whatever she wants, I still won.
“Of course you have a penis-envy car,” Abigail tells me as we drive to her apartment.
