Page 16 of Swerve (Boosted Hearts 1)

Shit.

Honestly, I wasn’t even really surprised he was here. He always seemed to find me.

I stayed where I was. I didn’t want deal with him tonight, especially after what happened between us. He was still standing by the door, scanning the room, the sweaty, grinding bodies, and somehow managed to home in on me. I had no idea how he did it, but he always managed to find me, no matter where I was, or how many people were in a room. A shiver slid down my neck, over my nipples, then lower. Stop it, Ruby.

What the hell was wrong with me? I had a problem. Seriously.

His eyes looked dark in this lighting. Black, intense, and they stayed on me, never leaving me once, as he made his way across the club.

He didn’t stop until he was right in front of me. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

I could barely hear him over the music, but I read his words on his lips. Don’t look at his lips. I shrugged, unable to form a coherent sentence when he was looking at me like that.

“We need to . . .” he glanced around me, frowning. “Who are you here with?”

I leaned toward him so he could hear me and forced myself to speak. “Scott, but he’s kinda tweaked and acting weird.” I started to babble, something I did when I was nervous. I was beyond that now. I was close to hurling. I hated to admit it, but I was already feeling fragile, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. But after that kiss between us, then him coming here, acting like it never happened . . . it hurt. If that’s how he wanted to play it, that’s how we’d play it. Talking about it was the last thing I wanted. “I don’t know what’s going on with him . . . anyway, I ditched him. He was being an octopus-hands, so I’m not really in a hurry to track him back down.”

Silence.

Shit, did I say that out loud? Good one, Ruby.

“Scott’s kinda tweaked?” he rumbled.

“Ah . . . yeah, kinda.”

He cursed several times, loud and rough. “Let’s go.”

“I’m fine.” I held up my phone. “I was about to call a cab.”

“I’m taking you home.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’ll get myself home.” I pushed away from the wall, but someone wrapped their hand around my wrist, pulling me to a stop . . .

I spun around.

Awesome.

“There you are!” Scott yelled in my ear. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Then he pressed in close, rubbing his erection against my hip. “Come back and dance with me.”

“No. I’m going to . . .”

A shadow moved over us, the red, green, and blue lights no longer flashing across Scott’s face. I tipped my head back and looked up at Neco. Could this night get any worse? I couldn’t think how.

Neco looked pissed off—no, furious. “Take your fucking hand off her.”

He was using that low, yet deceptively calm voice he often used on me. I’d dubbed it, the lesser, but still deadly, Calm Before the Storm. It basically meant if you didn’t comply, you were about to get a dose of Neco’s displeasure. Story of my damned life.

I yanked my hand free of Scott’s hold. “Let’s just go,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. I didn’t want him to drive me home, but I didn’t want him to cause a scene either. “He doesn’t even know what day it is right now. Just leave it.”

Neco’s eyes slid to me. “You want me to leave it?”

I shrugged, trying to act like this was nothing, that having Scott giggle like an escapee from a lunatic asylum, while poking at my hip with his boner, was the norm. It wasn’t. Scott could be a dick, but lately, he was worse. “Yes.” Then tacked on, “Please?” Hoping like hell a little pleading might do the trick.

I was wrong. Neco grabbed Scott by the front of his shirt and shook the shit out of him. “Don’t you ever lay a fucking hand on her again. Understand?”

Scott blinked up at him, looking dazed and confused. Then he started giggling again.

Fuck my life. Seriously.