Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“Did you just put your hand on my ass?”
He grins, shrugging.
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, don’t do that.”
He laughs. “Oh, are we gonna play that game?”
My brow furrows. “What game?”
“You gonna pretend you haven’t been eye-fucking me all night?”
I stare at him. “If by ‘eye-fucking’ you mean ‘I-fucking-want-you-to-stop-staring-at-me-like-a-creep’, then yes. That’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”
The man scowls, the grin fading.
“Your friend didn’t say you’d be this much of a bitch you know.”
“What friend.”
He nods past me, and I turn to see Courtney beaming at me, a thumb raised in the air.
Goddamnit.
“So, you wanna get out of here?”
I stare at him blankly.
“Are you serious?”
His grin widens as he spreads his hands wide.
“What can I say, baby, it’s your lucky day.”
I laugh, snorting my drink as I turn away from him.
“Okay, bye.”
I make it two steps before suddenly, it happens again. That fucking hand of his swats against my ass, and he holds it there as the fury blazes through me.
Fuck this.
I whirl and before he can say another word, I’ve tossed the rest of my Manhattan right into his smug face. The guy gasps and sputters in rage.
“You fucking cunt!”
“Keep your fucking hands to your—!”
“Fuck you!”
Fear spikes through me as the asshole charges right into me, my hands going up in defense. Suddenly though, the bartender and both bouncers are right there, pulling him back as he hurls curses at me.
“Ross! Easy now!” the bartender, who seems to know him, gets between us. “Take a breath, buddy. What happened?”
“This crazy bitch just threw her drink at me!”
I stare at him, my jaw dropping.
“Are you serious? He grabbed my ass! Twice!”
“The fuck I did, you self-absorbed bitch!”
“You ass—”
“That true?”
The bartender stares at me angrily.
“That he grabbed my ass twice and was a total creep? Damn right it—”
“That you threw a drink at him.”
I blink. “Yeah, I did.”
He glances at both bouncers and sighs.
“Get her out of here.”
“Hang on, what?!”
I shriek, swearing as the two big guys take my arms and start to pull me through the crowd.
“What the fuck!”
Ross, the asshole with my drink still dripping down his face, grins at me as he follows.
“What can I say, babe? They know me here.” He winks. “It helps that I’m an investor. Too bad you couldn’t just be a good girl and play nice.”
I lunge at him in a rage, the booze coursing through my veins as the bouncers lead me to the door. Shana rushes towards me, but I see Courtney take her arm and whisper something in her ear. They both look at me with this look of sympathy before Shana pushes her way towards me.
“Look, Em, just, you know… maybe go home and sleep it off?”
“Shana, I didn’t—”
“You had a rough year, hon,” Courtney chimes in from behind Shana, reaching out with a phony look on her face to pat my arm. “No one blames you, okay? But, you know, it is Shana’s night. Maybe it’s best if you go. You know, to your dorm.”
Even Shana can’t hide the little smile at that last one, and my mouth tightens as Courtney leads her away and the bouncers pull me outside.
Okay, tonight can seriously go fuck itself.
I take a deep breath, steading myself and trying to cool my tempter. I push my fingers through my dark hair, looking up into the early fall night and sighing.
I need another drink.
Okay, in truth, I’m more than buzzed and maybe on my way to drunk from the drinks I’ve had all night. But after whatever the hell just happened in that shitty bar, I need something else before I go home to my pathetic “dorm”—aka, my tiny faculty housing.
I shoot the bouncers one last dirty look before I storm off down the sidewalk in the direction of Winchester. I pass another bar, but it’s closing, and I grumble as I just keep walking, wondering if I’ve still got half a bottle of chardonnay in my fridge. I round the corner, and I’m about to grab my phone and just order an Uber back to campus, when something catches my eye.
I turn, looking down the empty, half dark alley behind the second bar, and when my eyes spot him, my breath catches.
Damn, he’s good. Really, really good.
He’s tall, and built, and I can see the ink of his tattoos rippling on his bare arms under his t-shirt as he raised them, spray-can in hand. The green hisses out, his arm moving in a slow sweep, highlighting the dark lines he’s already laid down on back wall of the bar. And I just watch, my mouth half open in surprise as I take in this man spray-painting a gorgeous mural in the alley.
And then, like my mind has gone completely insane, I take a step into the alley. And then another.
…And then I just keep going.
I walk closer and closer to him, my eyes sweeping over his stunning painting. He’s standing next to a parked motorcycle, and I watch as he caps the bottle in his hand and sticks in the saddlebag hanging of the back of the bike. He pulls out another one, his big biceps rippling as he gives it a shake and then begins to spray again.