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“Fuck you,” she snaps, again untangling herself from my grip to head toward the table.
I’m hot on her heels and get there before her. I lift her purse from where it hangs on the back of her chair.
“Put that back, I’m not leaving,” she protests, but I notice her swaying on her feet a little and her usual fight and sass is a little weak.
I pull a fifty out of my pocket and hand it to her tattooed friend. “For her meal.”
“What the fuck are you doing? I was talking to her!” the tool snaps, standing to try to get in my face. I’m six-two and he’s not even five-ten so it’s sort of funny.
I look down at him. “Get lost.”
He looks at Taryn. “Who is this asshole? Your dad?”
Gross.
“No, but I can whoop ass like one. Move.” I shoulder-check him as I grab Taryn’s hand.
She waves a weak goodbye to her friends, who are eyeing me like they want to key my car.
I unlock the Bugatti and put her into the front passenger seat. I get in and start the engine, but don’t drive yet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.
“Getting you out of there,” I answer, staring into her eyes as the restaurant’s blue signage light reflects on her face.
“I was having a good time,” she pouts, lifting her chin.
I scoff. “I did you a favor, trust me.”
“So, what. Some guy hits on me and suddenly you want to talk to me? To be around me?”
My back molars grind together. “He was touching you.”
Her eyes widen sarcastically, then she grins. “And? I was about to start touching him, too.”
“That’s it. I’m taking you home.” I hit the gas and peel out of the parking lot, heading onto the main road that has way too many cars on it for this time of night.
“That’s fine but after you leave, I’m just going to get an Uber and go back there.”
“The fuck you are,” I snap, shifting gears and passing cars.
She makes a sound of disapproval, then points to the road. “Why are you driving so fast? You’re gonna get a ticket!”
I ignore that because I don’t care. I quickly decide to go to my place, so I cut over three lanes with cars honking at me and take the ramp that will lead to my neighborhood.
“What are you doing? This isn’t the way to my house!”
“I know,” I growl, gunning the engine and shifting gears.
“Slow the hell down, Carter!” She grips my forearm and it immediately calms me. I ease off the gas and unclench my teeth.
Why does this girl have me so worked up?
