Page 45 of Grasp The Moment

His voice is so familiar that I know him immediately—Carson Killian. The dickhead who’d been chirping at me all game tonight. I don’t know what he says specifically, but I do know that when the words “blonde,” “bitch,” and “can get it” flow from his grimy lips—I lose my shit.

A feeling of complete euphoria waves over me as my fist connects with his jaw, and a stinging feeling travels from my knuckles to my forearm, but I couldn’t care less as I pound my fist into his face.

I can feel the crack of his nose beneath my knuckles; his weak skin breaks and spills crimson. I bask in it.

I hate it when guys think that they’re God’s gift to Earth. Some dudes go around acting like their shit doesn’t smell worse than cow manure, harassing women, then act as if they’d done the woman a favor by “gracing them with their presence.”

Give me a fucking break.

Just for that thought, I punch him again, harder this time.

He tries to get a few hits in and manages to land a few blows before the voice of my friends comes back to me, and I’m airlifted from the asshole.

Wiping the smear of leakage from my lip, I spit it back on the ground near his head and grab Georgia’s hand. My pulse races when our hands connect, and my heart soars to my ears when our eyes lock. My fingers graze her knuckles, and all I can see is red. I don’t know if it’s the anger from someone disrespecting her in front of me, or anger at myself for lashing out, but it doesn’t stop me.

Instead, I’m fueled by it.

“From now on, stay next to me, and I swear to God if you leave the house without my ring on that finger one more time, I’m going to teach you about being a good girl.”

18.Georgia

It’s quiet—tooquiet.

Derek and I walk in complete silence, hand in hand, as I lead him up to the apartment. He hadn’t spoken a word in the car, which is normal, seeing as he isn’t a chatterbox. But what wasn’t normal was the way he didn’t look at meonce.

I know that we’re just friends, but I can’t shake the small feeling of rejection creeping in at the thought of him being unable to look at me.

It could be my silly little insecurities or the painstakingly obvious answer—he’s over our situation and wants nothing to do with me. I’m too much, too hard to deal with.

Maybe he wants to cut ties and end this marriage right here?—

“I’ll get you some water…” he says lowly as he unlocks the front door, holding it open for me.

Quietly stalking inside behind him, I grab his hand.

The feeling of his large palm engulfing mine ignites a flame of hope in me.

He isn’t pulling away.

Derek’s deep brown eyes are inquisitive as they look down at me, peering into my soul. I open myself up, allowing him in. My eyes search his face, landing on the small cut on his lip and the one under his eye. Without words, I pull him toward our shared bathroom. He doesn’t argue with me as I guide him to take a seat on the toilet, nor does he speak when I pull out the first aid kit. Instead, he watches.

I feel his intense stare on my back as I gather what I need from the kit, placing them all on the counter before turning back to him.

With his busted lip and now red under eye, Derek still looks like the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I have to take a deep breath and ready myself to clean his cuts and bruises, knowing that if I don’t—I’d be putty on the ground.

Taking a step toward him, I stand in the space between his legs and purse my lips.

The other guy looked worse for wear, but this cut will definitely leave a mark.

“Hold still, yeah? This may burn…” I whisper as he looks up at me, and my breath hitches when our eyes connect.

Gulping, I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth and softly grab his chin.

“Make me all better, doc,” he says gruffly as he adjusts himself, placing a hand on the back of my thigh an inch from my ass.

I grab the alcohol pad and dab it against his lip without warning. “I wouldn’t have to patch you up if you didn’t get into a fight, y’know.”

Derek winces, his other hand coming to the small of my back, pulling me in close as the hand on my thigh tightens. He’s silent for a moment before my breath is taken away. He pulls me onto his lap, adjusting my body so I’m sitting horizontally on him. I gasp as he tightens his grip around me.