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I roll my eyes heavenward, barely holding back a snort. “Sorry, but that’s a bet you’ll lose. Now,” I turn in my seat, giving him my shoulder, “if you don’t mind, I’m going back to my drink.”
“Ahh… come on, sweetheart,” he whines–which is not attractive by the way, guys–then proceeds to put his hand on my knee. My naked knee, because my skirt rides up when I sit with my legs crossed. “You’ve got to at least let me try.”
I stiffen. “I don’t have to do any such thing. And I’d appreciate it if you’d remove your hand.”
He moves his hand alright, but not off my leg like he should if he were smart. Instead, he moves it up my leg until the tips of his fingers graze just under the hem of my skirt.
I’m just about to unsheathe my claws and dig them into the guy’s hand until I draw blood when I feel a body move in behind me. The soothing scent of this new smell envelopes me, and I relax, tempted to melt against what I know is a firm male chest. Unfortunately, I can’t.
A tanned, muscular arm drapes over my shoulder and his hand appears in front of me, his fingers dangling inches away from my breast. If I jut my chest out just a few inches….
“I believe the lady asked you to remove your hand.” The deep baritone has shivers racing down my spine. “I suggest you do so, or I’ll break your fingers when I remove them.”
The guy looks like he wants to argue, but wisely, he does as Reed says. The skin on my knee feels icky, and I want to scrub the spot with alcohol.
“No harm done,” Mr. Handsy says. “We were just talking.”
“Didn’t look that way to me. It looked as though my girl was barely staying polite by not telling you to fuck off.” Reed leans further into my back. “I don’t have the same manners as her, so I don’t mind telling you to get lost.”
The guy opens his mouth to say something, but Reed cuts him off.
“You don’t like it? Too bad. Swallow it and move the fuck on, because whatever you thought was going to happen, isn’t.”
I almost laugh at the harassed look on the guy’s face. His eyes shoot lasers over my shoulder. “The bitch wasn’t that good looking anyway,” he grumbles under his breath as he grabs his drink and gets up from the stool.
“What was that?” Reed growls, leaving my back to move toward the guy.
I grab Reed’s arm to stop him. “Just let him go,” I tell him.
He tracks the guy’s movements, his eyes narrowed into slits, until he’s across the room. Once he’s satisfied Mr. Handsy is far enough away, Reed takes the now vacant seat. Picking up my drink, I suck down the rest of it. I sway on my seat a little when the alcohol finally starts to hit my system.
“When did you get here?” I ask after I signal Jasper for another drink.
“A few minutes ago. Why? Were you looking for me?”
I look over at Reed, finding his signature grin with dimples in both cheeks in place.
“No,” I grumble. A flush heats my cheeks, because yes, I was totally looking for him, but I don’t want him to know that. “I just didn’t think I’d see you here since you weren’t working tonight.”
Jasper sets down my drink, along with one for Reed. Reed picks up his and downs half of it in one go.
“Jamison and I decided to hit the bar tonight. Mom needed me to fix a busted pipe, so I was late.”
In other words, Jamison and Reed are out fishing for hook-ups. The thought has all the alcohol I consumed tonight threatening to come back up.
Instead of saying anything, because really, there’s nothing for me to say, I pick at the napkin that’s under my drink. I’ve always had the bad habit of shredding paper when I’m feeling down or nervous.
“What’s up with you?” Reed asks a few minutes later. “I don’t like the look on your face. Something’s bothering you.”
Having best friends is great. They’re there when you need them. You can tell them anything without fear of judgement. They have shoulders to cry on, and they generally give good advice. But there are times when they can be a nuisance. I take that back. Jamison and Reed are never a nuisance. It can just be irritating sometimes because they know me so well. They know when somethings bothering me, even when I don’t want them to know. And both are bloodhounds when it comes to something that’s upsetting me. They don’t like to see me sad any more than I like to see them sad.
I huff out a long breath. There’s no way I can hide this from either of them, so I don’t even try.
“I’m newly unemployed, and I’m two weeks away from being homeless.”
I look over at Reed when he stays quiet. A frown creases his eyes. “How in the hell did this come about?”
I take another sip of my drink before I explain. “Max is down-sizing at the dealership because of the computer chip shortage. Apparently, he plans to let one of the salesmen take over the secretarial work to cut back on employee costs.”
“That’s bullshit,” he grates.
