Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,343

shoulder, but I can’t ignore the heat of his body inching even closer to mine.

“Oh, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn…” His voice is irritatingly sly. “What can I do to convince you to say yes?”

When his hand lands on my thigh, my body immediately grows rigid. I inhale a sharp breath. His fingers sweep up and down my leg as I blink repeatedly, my heart pounding in my chest. Didn’t Damian pay attention during our health class when Mr. Ottermeyer went over the importance of verbal consent? Probably not. He was too busy flirting with anything with a pulse.

“Damian,” I warn through tight lips, gripping my book, my knuckles becoming white with the force. “Please take your hand off my leg.”

“Why?” He smirks. “Is there somewhere else you’d like my hand?” He comes closer still, his fingers traveling up my leg, over my hip, and farther north.

I open my mouth, dread forming in the pit of my stomach, every inch of my body tensing. The hair on my nape stands on end, my palms becoming clammy. I press my elbows into my sides, my teeth grinding. Hearing laughing and blaring music reminds me I’m in public, that I can get up and leave, but I’m frozen to the spot, unable to move or speak as his hand looms perilously close to my chest.

As I brace myself for what’s to come next, he suddenly flies off the lounge chair and onto the sand. I’m disoriented at first, unsure what just happened. Then I see a familiar, yet intimidating figure standing over Damian, his foot pressed against his neck, his dark hair wild.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on her again!” Drew bellows. His back is toward me, muscles tense, body taut.

Over the past two years, he’s gone from a tall, scrawny kid, who perpetually had a pair of ice skates or rollerblades attached to him, into this beast of a man. With his six-foot, two-inch frame and muscles he’s built up during hours of training, he’s a force to be reckoned with. Couple that with a hot temper, and the entire school has learned not to mess with Andrew Brinks, unless you want to walk away with a broken bone or two.

“Chill out!” Damian says once Drew lets up on the pressure. “We were just talking.”

“Really? It didn’t look like you were just talking.”

Drew glances over his shoulder and our eyes meet. I swallow hard at what I see in his stare. I can’t quite explain it. It’s unlike the way he typically looks at me. He’s no longer looking at me like I’m an annoyance, someone he has to put up with because I’m his sister’s best friend. It makes me feel ashamed. I jump to my feet and grab my cover-up lying in the sand, hastily tossing it on my body.

Damian takes advantage of Drew’s momentary distraction and wiggles away, climbing back to his feet. “You got a thing for her, fine,” he barks out, brushing sand off his swim trunks. “No skin off my back. You’ve seen one pair of tits, you’ve seen ’em all. And I’ve seen plenty. Nothing special about hers.”

In an instant, Drew’s hand forms into a tight fist. Damian doesn’t even have time to react before Drew reels back, landing a powerful blow to his perfect nose. When blood spews onto the sand, I shriek. Needing to do something to put an end to this before it gets out of control, I dart toward Drew and attempt to pull him off Damian, but he’s obsessed, a man on a mission.

“Drew! Stop!” I do everything I can, but I’m no match for his strength. “Please!

Just as he’s about to land another punch to Damian’s face, I jump in between the two. Drew quickly halts mid-blow. It’s the first time I’m actually thankful for my height. If I were as short as Molly, he’d never even notice me standing here.

He stares at me, nostrils flaring. It’s just enough time for Damian to get his footing and take off down the beach. The crowd that had assembled to watch the fight disperses and I expect to hear sirens at any minute. It’s not the first time Drew’s gotten in trouble for fighting, and it certainly won’t be the last. His only saving grace has been his father’s close connection with many of the boys in blue in this town.

“What the hell, Drew?” I shriek in an uncharacteristic move. I’m normally even-tempered, but I can’t be right now, not about