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“Not that we didn’t try,” Beck commented.
“Autumn Bum Bum is a fucking peach. She turned our entire lives around. Even partied with us. This girl can drink some fucking whiskey.”
“I had to keep up with you.”
“Yeah, babe, you did. But our singer has turned into a fucking pussy since he got married, and our drummer is sticking it to his assistant.” Jude threw his arm around Beck. “It’s just me and this fucking wanker now.”
I giggled, missing these guys.
“Her girly squeal is absolutely delicious, isn’t it? You sticking it to her? I give it a week before you’re balls deep inside of her.”
My face turned fifty shades of red—Jude had no filter.
Ever.
Beck joined in. “I want in on that bet.”
“Five k on him sinking into her before the week is over.”
“A week?” Jude scolded. “Her ass has gotten bigger. I give it two days. Max.”
This was a reoccurring thing between them. They were always betting each other on stupid shit.
In less than two strides, Julian tugged me into his side.
My heart pounded so hard, I prayed he couldn’t feel it against his abrupt, dominating hold. The simple touch of his arms around me had me weak in the knees and my body stiffening. I wasn’t expecting him to do that in front of them.
What is he doing?
“If she’d give me half the chance, I’d make her mine tonight.”
My breath hitched. Not only could he feel my hesitation, but he could also read my mind.
I tried to step away from him, but he wouldn’t let me. Holding onto me tighter. Thinking quick on my feet, I turned around in his arms and set my hand on his chest, trying to make it look like there wasn’t anything going on between us.
There wasn’t.
Was there?
The last thing I wanted was for Jude and Beck to start rumors and people thinking we were anything besides professional with each other.
Using the best enthusiasm I could muster in the awkward situation, I announced, “Boys, get ready to invest in a sure thing. Someone is going to be making a huge announcement next week.” I winked at them while Julian tensed, abruptly letting me go, and I instantly felt the loss of his touch.
Autumn, stop.
After I said goodbye to the guys, Julian wasn’t happy.
When was he ever happy?
In a stern tone, he ordered everyone at the bar to leave us. Thank God it was only his employees and not his guests.
Why was he pissed? Was it because of how they’d treated me or—
“Why would you share that private information with them?”
I guess that answered my question. Why was I disappointed?
Before I could give it too much thought, he sneered, “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
