Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Three hours later, the boys and I are talking to a group of women when I glance across the room. Eliza is having the time of her life, dancing and flirting up a storm. She has hardly spoken two words to me all night.
And it shouldn’t bother me… but it does.
I inhale and shake my head, reminding myself of who I am.
Stop it. Who cares who she talks to? Not me, that’s for sure.
“So, are you attached?” the blonde asks as she rubs her hand over my bicep.
“Yes. Very,” I answer flatly.
“I don’t mind,” she purrs. “Makes it more fun. I’m very discreet.”
I roll my eyes. Good grief.
Glen smirks, clearly amused by her answer.
My eyes find Eliza as Samuel Phillips approaches her. He says something, and she laughs out loud and kisses his cheek in greeting.
I narrow my eyes as I watch the two of them. He’s animated as he talks and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl.
Oh, please, give me a break.
His eyes roam down her body and the back up to her face. My jaw clenches as I watch him.
Don’t look at her like that, dickhead.
Anger begins to roll through me as I feel myself becoming territorial of her.
I snap my eyes away angrily, but before long, they rise to watch over her again.
Samuel’s eyes are drinking her in, his attention roaming all over her body.
I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I want to march over there and teach him some manners. I need a distraction.
“I’m getting another round of drinks,” I say to the guys.
I stand in line at the bar and try to get a handle on myself, stretching my neck to try and release some of the tension.
What do I care, anyway?
It’s none of my business who Eliza talks to.
She’s a big girl; she can do whatever she wants.
I watch as Samuel takes her hand and leads her to the dancefloor.
He takes her in his arms, and she smiles up at him. I clench my jaw.
Don’t. Even.
What the fuck is she doing? She never carries on like this. Actually, all three girls are on the loose tonight. How much did they drink today?
I watch them for a moment, and Samuel’s hands are all over Eliza’s behind. She doesn’t seem to mind.
People block my view until I can’t see them. I crane my neck to see that they’ve moved to the other side of the dancefloor. Frustration fills me.
Fuck this, I’m not waiting in this line. I storm back to where my friends are to get a better view of what’s going on.
“Where are our drinks?” Glen asks.
“I’ll go back in a minute,” I reply, totally distracted.
“Where do you work?” The blonde asks me.
My eyes stay fixed on the dancefloor.
Drew taps me on the leg and gestures to the blonde with a jut of his chin.
“Oh, sorry,” I say to her. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said, where do you work?”
“I’m a plumber,” I lie. Why the fuck is this woman still here?
Drew smirks against his glass as he takes a big gulp.
Will you girls fuck off? I want to watch that douchebag to make sure he doesn’t touch Eliza. My eyes go back to them on the dancefloor, and Samuel smiles down at Eliza like he’s about to eat her.
I begin to see red.
Don’t touch her, fucker, or you will die.
I glance at Drew, and he, knowing exactly what I’m thinking, chuckles.
Samuel’s hands go to Eliza’s ass, and I step forward. Drew grabs my arm.
“Easy,” he whispers.
Samuel pulls Eliza toward him, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m beside them.
“Time to go, Eliza,” I bark.
“What?” She frowns as she stumbles back in surprise.
“You’ve had too much to drink. I’m taking you home.”
“No, it’s okay.” Samuel smiles, adding in a sleazy wink. “I’ll get her home safely.”
“I said no.”
He scowls. “Mind your business, Mercer.”
I glare at him and pull Eliza from his grip. “Do not fucking piss me off.”
Eliza frowns as she looks between us. “Nathan?”
“Don’t Nathan me.” I take her hand and drag her from the dancefloor.
“What are you doing?” she snaps.
“Stopping you from embarrassing yourself.”
“What?”
I point to the door. “We’re leaving.”
“Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
She narrows her eyes playfully and stops and puts her hands on her hips. “Are you taking me for pizza? Because I’m only leaving for pizza.”
“If you fucking behave.” I take her hand in mine once more.
“Fine.” She concedes. “But I want a whole pizza to myself.”
“Don’t be a pig.” I mutter, distracted.
She waves to our friends. “Bye!” she calls as we walk toward the door. “Why are you such a party pooper?” She says from behind me.
“Do you want pizza or not?” I snap.
She begins to snort and laugh at herself, and I roll my eyes.
Drunk women. Is there anything more annoying?
An hour and a half later, I fumble with the key to get into the apartment. I wasn’t joking back there. Eliza isn’t just tipsy, she’s rolling drunk.