Friends With The Monsters - Albany Walker Page 0,27

what could be called a smile, but it’s much more like he’s baring his teeth at me. “Even when I’m quick, I’m effective,” he promises.

Calix stands and taps one of the guys he was talking with earlier on the shoulder, asking for a pen.

While he’s working through the group, I stand and look for someone who will help me with my plan to get Gunnar’s attention. There’s a drunk guy near the dance floor, he’s all clumsy hands and searching fingers. I’ve had my eye on him for most of the night—he’s seeping sins. He’ll work.

“I need to go, Calix.” I tap his shoulder.

He turns to face me. “No luck.” He spreads his hands, his eyes are wide like he’s telling me he really tried.

“Maybe next time,” I offer, feeling pretty bummed too.

“I have my phone.” He pulls it out of his front pocket and holds it out to me. “You can give me your number?” He licks over his lips like he’s worried I might say no.

I take the cell from his hand and hit the phone icon. When the keypad pops up, I dial my own number before handing it back to him.

“Thanks for the seat, Calix.” I lean up and press my lips to his. It’s not long or deep, but I do drag my tongue over his bottom lip before pulling back.

I watch his mouth as his teeth scrape over the path my tongue just took. “Sure you can’t stay?” he questions, his voice a little deeper.

“Wish I could.” It’s not even a little bit of a lie.

“Is an hour long enough to wait before I call?”

I throw my head back and laugh, he’s not any more patient than I am. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be tied up tonight,” I answer noncommittally.

I trail my fingers over his chest as I pass. I was right, the shirt didn’t do the hard body beneath it any justice.

Once I clear his group, I stomp over toward the drunk guy. I don’t have to pretend to be angry, I’m pissed at the missed opportunity with Calix. Probably angrier than I should be, considering I’ve never let a missed hookup bother me before.

I get as close to the drunk as I can without actually forcing myself between him and the current girl he’s ogling. Taking a deep breath, I let the beat of the music settle me. I start to sway my hips slowly, imagining the feel of someone’s hands on my waist. I ignore the fact that it’s Calix’s hands I’m imagining.

I lift my arms in the air, taking up some of my hair as I do. It falls back down over my back and shoulders in a pale wave.

I know the drunk is going to touch me before he does. I can feel the slime oozing off him as his thoughts turn nefarious. Even though I hate the thought, I let him put his nasty hand on the swell of my hip.

One touch, and I spin around and shove him backwards. He stumbles, but there are too many people standing around for him to fall on his ass like he should have. He gets bounced right back up. He’s so unsteady on his feet, he almost goes down again trying to regain his balance.

“Hey,” he slurs, his eyes are all glassy, but his lips are lifted in a sneer.

“Keep your fucking hands off me.” I thought this would be a good idea to get Gunnar’s attention, but I want to kick this guy in the balls so badly.

The crowd shifts before he has a chance to respond. I feel a hand on my upper arm, and when I look over, Gunnar is standing next to me, glaring down at the drunk, who now has a security guy holding his shoulder, only the grip doesn’t seem nearly as gentle as the one Gunnar has on me.

“Time to go,” Gunnar announces, and tugs on my arm a little. The anger is still simmering inside of me, and I want to tug my arm out of his hold, but this is exactly what I was hoping for.

“I didn’t do shit,” the man spews. “That bitch pushed me.”

I glare over my shoulder at him. The man grabs his chest and starts coughing violently. Even though I don’t want to, I release the hold I have on his soul. This man is riddled with sins so severe, he’s going to be dead within a few years anyway, and those years won’t be