Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,30

by a shot of pickle juice.” I turned to see Trevor, and he appeared appalled. “It’s a tacky drink. You should try some top-shelf whiskey instead.”

Yeah, not happening. Brad was a full-time student and worked part-time for his dad’s landscaping company during the summer. He didn’t have the budget for top-shelf anything, and I honestly didn’t care. What I did care about was Trevor’s unexpected appearance.

And Brad started to look doubtful and a little down. He was several drinks in, and I worried that Trevor had hurt his feelings.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him. “I’ll try anything that sounds so absurd.”

His blinding smile was worth the fact that now I actually had to drink whatever it was he’d ordered. When the drinks came, Brad and I slammed them back, and I made sure Trevor saw me—because fuck him for showing up uninvited and judging me and my friends!

His frown deepened into a scowl. Oh, the fuck well, Trevor. The truth was I was irritated. This was supposed to be my night with my friends. I’d told him I’d hit him up to schedule dinner plans another time.

My friend cast one more sheepish look at Trevor before heading to the dance floor, and I clenched my teeth. Trevor moved closer, his judgmental frown still in place. “I can’t believe you drank that trash. It’s for immature jocks and partying college kids.”

“I am a partying college kid,” I reminded him.

He shrugged. “You’re more mature than they are. I can tell—you would do yourself a favor by remembering that. Let me get you a real drink.”

“I’m trying to take it slow,” I said. “Something non-alcoholic this time.”

Trevor wrinkled his nose like he’d smelled something bad. “So you’ll party with your shitty friends—who, it looks like, don’t even have a driver for you—but you won’t with me?”

I rolled my eyes. This was getting to be absurd, and Christian had been right—the red flags were flying all over the place. Maybe it was time to cut this off before it could get even more out of control...

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t party with you. I said I was trying to pace myself. Which”—I looked at him pointedly—“seems like the mature thing to do.”

“Fine. But I’m ordering for you. Let a real man show you how it’s done.”

At that moment, Brad reappeared and he had our friend Kevin with him. Apparently he hadn’t been retreating—he’d been calling in reinforcements. Good man, Brad, good man. Kevin was a pretty delicate twink, but when he went full queen, we all bowed.

“Introduce me to your friend,” Kevin said, staring at Trevor. He did not look pleased.

“Kev, this is Trevor. I met him when we were here last week. Trevor, these are my friends Kevin and Brad. The ones I told you I’d be out with tonight.”

Trevor gave them a smile so oily it could’ve left grease marks. “A pleasure. Why don’t you keep dancing? I just want a chance to catch up with the birthday boy.”

Ugh. Kevin gave me a look like are you okay? and I nodded. It was time to make sure Trevor understood that he wasn’t winning any favors with this shit, and I figured less of an audience would create less drama.

My friends reluctantly went back to dancing, and I felt Trevor relax next to me, closer than he’d been before. Like, real fucking close. His hand trailed across my lower back. “Thanks for sending them away. I’m not exactly interested in getting to know children.”

I pulled away from him. Those were my friends he was slamming. He seemed truly oblivious to how uninterested I was in his bullshit. Christian had warned me, and I was glad for it—Trevor could give me all the compliments and watches in the world and it wouldn’t make up for his appalling behavior.

“Let’s get some air,” I said, gesturing to the front door. Time to kick you to the curb, Mr. Lawyer.

As soon as we’d walked outside a ways, I whirled to face him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Trevor’s eyes widened. “I came to see you. You’ve been dodging me, and honestly, it’s been pretty fucking rude—especially after I bought you that watch you seemed to enjoy so much.”

“Are you kidding me? Rude is showing up uninvited. It’s texting someone you hardly know a hundred times in a day. It’s insulting my friends like you have a right to an opinion on them.” I was fuming, my hands clenched. “For some reason, you seem to think