Tease (7 page)

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins
Publishers

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Chapter 6

T
he band played loud
and fast, the drummer going wild with the sticks. Sweat trickled down my neck as Suzanne and I danced hard. Bodies hopped all around us. The place was hot and jam-packed. People bumped around me. Guys I didn’t know grabbed at my hips. I didn’t care. I just danced, stopping only occasionally to make my way to the booth where Pepper and Reece sat and take another drink from my whiskey sour.

Pepper watched me with her face all scrunched up with worry. She’d looked at me that way all night. Which only made me want to drink more. Until that look on her face didn’t register. Every once in a while she would glance at me and whisper something to Reece. Slamming my glass down, I made my way back out onto the dance floor to Suzanne.

My goal was drunken oblivion.

I didn’t know at what point in the night Shaw showed up, but when I flipped my head and spotted him in the booth with Reece and Pepper, I stopped dancing. My dancing partner at the moment didn’t stop, however. He continued to bump against me, his hands roving over my belly, sliding under my shirt to palm my stomach.

Shaw stared across the crowd at me. I stared back until the guy with his hands all over me spoke into my ear. “You’re so fucking hot. How about we get out of here?”

Snapping my gaze off Shaw, I turned until I was facing the guy pawing me. Typical frat boy. He wore his hat backward. Greek letters emblazoned across his chest. “I want to dance!” I shouted over the crazy loud noise.

“We could dance back at my place.”

“No.” I shook my head, and resumed dancing, indifferent to him.

He stuck close, dancing with me and Suzanne, trying to infiltrate.

“Who’s that?” Suzanne called, nodding toward our table.

I followed her gaze. Shaw was talking to Reece now. “Friend of Reece.”

“Holy hotness,” Suzanne murmured. “I’m going in.” Smoothing her hair back from her sweaty cheeks, she made a beeline for the table. I pretended not to watch, not to care, and kept dancing.

A new guy moved in, taking her place. I had frat boy behind me and the new guy in front. New Guy gripped my hips and thrust his pelvis in time to the music. I watched the table from beneath my lashes. Suzanne shook hands with Shaw. He was talking to her and I felt a stab of panic. Did he like her? She was pretty. And likeable. Obviously. She was my friend. Suddenly annoyed, I pushed out from between my boy sandwich and headed for the bar.

At the bar, I looked left and right. I didn’t have long to wait.

A guy squeezed into the space beside me. “Hey!”

“Hey,” I returned.

“Chad.”

“Emerson.” We shook hands, his hand holding on to mine longer than necessary.

“You alone?”

I waved back in the direction of my table. “Came with some friends.”

“Yeah. Cool. Me, too. Great band.” He nodded at the stage. I forced myself not to yawn at the small talk. I just wanted a drink.

“Saw you on the dance floor.”

I leaned in a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re the hottest girl out there.”

Ah, the brilliance of flattery. I flattened my hand against his chest. “Well, how about you buy the hottest girl on the dance floor a drink?”

His eyes flared with excitement and I knew in that moment he thought he was getting laid tonight. Boys could be so dumb.

“Sure. What’d you have?”

“Whiskey sour.”

He waved the bartender over and ordered our drinks.

“So are you like a professional dancer? You’ve got some moves.”

And the flattery kept getting better. Or rather, cheesier. Our drinks arrived and I took a long sip from my glass. “Nope.”

“You a student? At Dartford?”

I nodded.

“Me, too. I’m an econ major. Figure it will help for law school—”

“Chad?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s drop the small talk. You don’t care about my major and I don’t care about yours.” His eyes widened. “Wow. You’re to the point.”

I nodded and lifted my glass in a sloppy little salute. “Yes. I am.”

“I can get to the point, too.” He leaned forward so that his mouth brushed my cheek. “I’d like to fuck you.”

I stifled a wince and pulled back to look at him. “That’s supposed to shock me, I guess?”

His eyes glittered. “How about it?”

Suddenly everything felt bleak inside me . . . as if this was the most I could expect out of life. That there would never be anything more than this. A father who loved me as long as I led my own life, independent from him, never demanding anything other than money. Not his time. Not his affection. A mother who could never love me more than herself. And guys eager to use me and toss me aside afterward.

I downed the rest of my drink and signaled the bartender for another. The bartender returned and lined up two shot glasses in front of me and Chad. I gripped the cold glass, ready to shoot the liquid, let it burn out every other feeling until I was comfortably numb inside.

“You’ve had enough.” The deep voice cut through my fog of bitterness.

Turning, I narrowed my gaze on Shaw, standing there. Up close and personal. I’d been thinking about him all week—hell, I’d been painting those eyes that were staring at me right now. Still, the reality of him was so much more than what I’d re-created on canvas. Those melting dark eyes blazed down at me, and I read the judgment there so clearly. The tiny hairs on my arms prickled, ready for a fight.

“You’re not the boss of me.” God. I sounded like I was ten years old. I could do better than that.

He actually had the gall to pluck the shot glass from my hand and plunk it down on the bar. Not only that. He slid it away. I’d have to stretch across the counter to even reach it. “About this I am.”

I glared from the glass back to him. “Give it back.”

“Why? Just so you can get shit-faced and let some guy you don’t give a crap about paw all over you?” He held my gaze as he growled this, not even glancing at Chad.

“Hey,” Chad objected, but I didn’t even glance at him. I was too busy glaring at Shaw and letting the hot emotions swirling through me gain momentum. I hugged those feelings close and stirred them to a boil. It was better than how I was feeling before. His sudden presence had erased those cold, bitter feelings. Now there was just fury at him for daring to tell me what to do. He wasn’t even my friend. He didn’t even like me.

“Jealous?” I sneered. “Why? You seemed to be having a good time with Suzanne.”

God, now I sounded jealous.
Of my own friend, no less
. It must be the alcohol. I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying.

His nostrils flared. “You’re not getting drunk.”

“Newsbreak. I’m already there.” Well. Close anyway. Although he was definitely killing my buzz. “Look. I get that you’re Reece’s friend and you probably think I need looking after, but really. I’m fine. I don’t need babysitting.”

As if I hadn’t said a word, his deep voice rumbled across the air. “You definitely don’t need another drink.”

I inhaled sharply. Who the hell was this guy? It was none of his business how much I drank. Or who I let paw me. “Go to hell,” I flung out.

A muscle popped in his jaw and I knew he didn’t like that. Gratification swept through me.

He jerked his head in the direction of the doors. “C’mon. I’m taking you home.”

I scanned the crowd, searching for my friends. Suzanne, Pepper, and Reece were watching us with great interest from the table. “Thanks, but I already have a designated driver.”

“Hey, man,” the guy beside me inserted, reaching across the bar to grab the shot glass and bring it back in front of me. “She can make up her own mind.” He lifted the glass up for me to take.

I smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you, Chad.”

Shaw leaned slightly forward, bringing himself eye level with Chad. “Get your hand out of her face before I break it.”

Chad slammed the glass back down on the bar and surged to his feet, squaring off in front of Shaw. “C’mon, motherfucker,” he challenged, which really sounded kind of ridiculous coming from him in his powder blue polo. “You want to mess with me?”

Shaw sighed heavily and closed a hand around my arm like Chad had not called him an ugly name. Any other guy would have lost his cool.

“Let’s go, Emerson,” he stated, clearly unthreatened.

Even though I resisted the idea of him deciding when it was time for me to go home, I really didn’t relish the idea of starting a fight in the middle of a bar. Thanks to Chad, people were already watching us. From the corner of my eye, I could see Reece pushing his way through the crowd toward us, Pepper and Suzanne fast behind. I didn’t want to get my friends involved in a fight either. What if one of them got hurt?

Besides. I nodded and slid off my stool. I wasn’t one of those girls who got her rocks off on two guys fighting over her.

Though Shaw wasn’t really fighting over me. He was just doing what he thought he had to because I was Reece’s friend. Because he was Reece’s friend. He was a Marine. He probably thought it was his mission to save the world. One drunk girl at a time.

I let him pull me from the bar. We had walked away two steps when Chad clamped a hand on my arm and yanked me back.

“She doesn’t want to go—”

Shaw moved so fast then I didn’t even process it until it was over. Until Chad was on the ground. In one smooth, ninja-fast motion, Shaw had popped him in the mouth.

Chad was down, his hands cupping his face. I gaped and had started to crouch down to help him when Shaw grabbed my hand and hauled me after him. “C’mon.” We passed my friends. Shaw nodded once at Reece. “I’m taking her home.”

Reece nodded in silent understanding. Pepper gaped and looked ready to say something, maybe protest on my behalf, but Reece turned and led her and an equally shocked Suzanne away.

I tugged on his hand. “Are you crazy? You just hit that guy—”

“He had it coming.” His fingers tightened around mine as he pulled me out the back exit and into the parking lot. The music died to a heavy throb on the frigid air. My ears rang from hours inside the decibel-shattering din.

“How’s that? He was trying to protect me from you—”

Shaw swung around, his eyes blazing. “Get a fucking clue, Emerson. He was standing near our table the whole time you were on the dance floor.”

I pulled my hand free with a violent yank. “So?”

“He was telling his buddies and anyone standing nearby all the dirty things he was going to do to you.”

I blinked and swallowed, pushing down my disgust that some strange guy had been talking dirty about me before he even approached me at the bar. That was no shock. I knew just what kind of guy he was the minute he opened his mouth. I was more bothered by Shaw “rescuing” me. What made him think I needed rescuing? I could handle myself. I had been doing it forever.

“Oh, aren’t you the noble knight,” I mocked. “News flash. I didn’t need your help back there.”

“Sure as hell looked like it to me.”

What? Did he think I was going to let that guy take me home and act out all his perverse fantasies on me? The very idea that he thought that way of me only made me angrier. Contrary to what all of Dartford thought, I wasn’t a slut.

But isn’t that what you want people to think? That you’re tougher, stronger, more experienced?
I can’t be offended that they all believe the image I created. Including Shaw.

I took a deep breath and reached for my composure. Determined to not let Shaw rattle me, I shrugged. “So he was talking shit. Like guys don’t do that.”

“Not to you,” he growled. “You might not think you deserve more respect than that, but I do. You deserve better.”

Stunned, I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Reclaiming my hand, he resumed hauling me through the parking lot, weaving us through the cars. My mind reeled.
What was that supposed to mean?
He thought I deserved better? Like what? I wasn’t Pepper or Georgia or Suzanne. I wasn’t a nice girl looking for a fairy-tale ending. That wasn’t in the cards for me.

I lifted my face and inhaled the biting-cold air, trying desperately to cool the heat firing my cheeks as he led me toward his truck.

“Contrary to what you think,” I got out, staring at his back, “I don’t need rescuing.”

He laughed harshly then. We were almost to his truck. I spotted it through the cars. Without breaking stride, he tossed over his shoulder, “You, sweetheart, need rescuing in the worst way.”

I stared at his back, wanting to hit something.
Him
.

He led me to the passenger side and yanked open the door. Jerking his head, he snapped at me, “Get in.”

Neanderthal
. I crossed my arms over my chest, not budging. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve survived just fine for almost twenty-one years before you came along.”

His gaze flicked over me and that glint of scorn was back in his eyes. “That’s debatable.”

I flinched. It was as if he saw right into me . . . saw that I was a girl hanging on by a thread. How did he know that about me?
How could he tell when I managed to fool everyone else?

Again, I felt judged. Like he somehow found me lacking—which I know was in direct opposition to what he had just said, that I deserved
better
. But that summed up how he made me feel. Confused.
Lost
. Low one moment and high the next. I didn’t know where I was going with him, which was a definite first. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time, but mostly scary.

“Get in,” he repeated, his voice hard.

“I don’t have to do what you say. And I already have a ride home.”

“Yeah, and they’re having a good time out. Their night shouldn’t end just because of you. So stop being selfish.”

The truth of that statement flayed me. Which was probably the desired effect. I felt guilty.

I lifted my chin. “Who said I’d bother them? I’ll find another ride.” Unable to take it anymore—take
him—
I whirled around. I didn’t make it two steps before he caught me up in his arms.