Page 22 of My Never
“Why not? Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“No.”
“Okay, explain.”
“Don’t have to.” His eyes drop to my lips, and he licks his before taking another swig of his other drink.
“Stop doing that.”
He looks up at me and grins.
“Just admiring the color, Pinky.”
“What’s with the nicknames?”
“Firecracker doesn’t fit with your color choice tonight, and it’s better than Princess.”
“I’m not a princess.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
Fuck this man is infuriating. I bite my lip to keep from yelling at him. He sits down across from me, happy to be a taunting presence.
“Is there a reason you chose to sit there?”
“Yes.”
I lean forward, and he matches my energy, leaning right back, staring hard into my eyes.
“Care to enlighten me?”
“I wanted to keep any less-than-good-intentioned men from sitting here.”
“Less-than-good-intentioned men? Are you talking about yourself or the guys that went to college with you and Colin.”
“That’d be them.”
“And why are you worried about them?”
“Because, if you drink too much, I don’t want them getting a peek up that tiny ass black skirt of yours.”
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead. I hadn’t taken that into consideration. I’m currently sitting with my legs crossed like a fucking lady. What makes him think I’m such a floozy? I uncross my legs and lean as far forward as I can without finding myself in his lap to give him a piece of my mind.
“First off, I’m not a floozy. Secondly, do you think that makes it your place to get a ‘peek’?” I air quote for him.
He leans a little closer with a deadly smile, the smell of his cologne invading my nostrils, clouding my mind.
“I know you aren’t a floozy. No, it’s not anyone’s place to peek, but I would be a gentleman if an accident happened. I would protect you. They, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so gentlemanly.” His eyes skate over my face as we glare at each other. It’s getting hot in here. My breath stutters from my chest.
“I don’t need your protection.”
“You’re one of ours. You’ll always have it whether you asked for it or not.”
I sit back and recross my legs to get a smidge of distance from this man. This possessive, protective streak is a bit…overwhelming. He surprisingly keeps his eyes on mine the wholetime. He bites his lip in contemplation like he wants to say more but is holding back.
“First stop!” someone from the front yells, and I feel thankful to get out of this confined space for a few minutes.
9
