you’re into that. I might wear Jimmy Choo’s and have a shopping addiction that would rival any junkie, but I prefer my men to be all man. I’ll take rugged over beautiful any day of the week but, at one o’clock on a Sunday morning, I only want my empty bed. Patience is not my friend on a good day, but when I’ve had too much to drink in a way that’s only made me tired and not a fun party companion, I’m over it. Any tolerance I would normally have for a man who has prettier teeth than me has flown the coop.
I set the glass down on the bar between us and give Mr. Blondie a tight smile. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m done for the night. My ride is on its way.”
“Jen, no!” Becca starts in again but the blond steps forward and puts his hand lightly on my arm, interrupting, “Just one dance.”
I shrug him off and take a step back. “Like I said, no thanks.”
Blondie’s friend slides up to Becca and she doesn’t argue. She reaches over and gives my hand a drunken squeeze. “Come on. The other girls are out there, too.”
Becca and her new dance partner disappear as my phone vibrates. I unlock my screen and see that Donny will be here in five minutes, but I don’t have a chance to respond when I feel a hand on my bicep, stronger this time.
Looking up, I try to pull away but his grip tightens. I see those perfect teeth inside a fake smile and it makes me internally roll my eyes. “We should go hang with your friends, sweetheart.”
“Let go,” I demand.
He doesn’t let go and gives me a pull. “Loosen up. Your friends are all on the dance floor.”
Fuck. My dull buzz has disintegrated and I grip my phone. Planting my feet, I start to pull my arm back but, just when I’m about to take control of the situation, I feel a large, warm hand on the small of my back. I look down in time to see a tattooed forearm snake around me. It’s so close, I can make out the ring of the beautiful inked compass right before his other hand turns into a vice on Blondie’s arm.
“She’s with me.”
When I look up, I get lost in deep, dark eyes void of all emotion looking over my head at the same time Blondie lets go of me. Eli, the designated driver, whom I found to be a challenge just minutes ago, wraps his hand around my hip and pulls my back to his front.
From this angle, I have multiple choices to get out of his hold. If I wanted to.
That’s a big if.
Because for some reason, I feel safer pretending I’m Eli’s rather than having creepy blond vie for my attention. And with the way Blondie’s glaring at me right now, I’ll do everything I can to get away from him.
The blond gestures to Eli but says to me, “I’ve watched you for an hour and you’ve not so much as talked to any man—let alone this guy.”
I slip my phone into my back pocket. “Well, he pissed me off earlier, but here we are.” I look up at Eli who, for the first time since I laid eyes on him, has tipped his lips on one side and I say over the music, “Let’s go.”
I take his hand and pull him away from our spot at the bar, but more importantly, away from the man who almost got clocked on the underside of his nose. I’ve got an iPhone case as strong as a bullet and I know how to use it. Blondie might look pissed off as I walk away with my politically-incorrect pretend friend, but he’s clueless to the fact he most likely dodged a broken nose.
That would’ve messed up his pretty, perfect face.
I have no idea where I’m going besides away from where we were, but I feel Eli’s grip on my hand tighten as we go. Since the place is packed, I stop at the edge of the dance floor and turn to look up at him.
“Thank you,” I yell over the hum of the crowd.
He’s back to stoic and shrugs. He leans down and I feel his lips next to my ear. “The guy was an ass.”
Just when I’m about to agree with his assessment, the DJ booms over the speakers, doing his job to get the masses riled and excited and,