just scared…maybe she thinks all the tats are hot, who knows. “Thanks for coming on such short notice,” I tell her.
“Anything for that little princess,” she says, still wildly eyeballing me.
I cut the small talk short and jet across town faster than I should. By the time I make it into the restaurant, Cali’s hunched over at the bar, sipping on some kind of clear liquid in a whisky glass. I take the seat next to her, trying not to seem as out of control as I feel right now, but there’s a chance it’s written all over my face. “Make a mistake?” Cali asks me without looking over.
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay. You know how the guys around here act. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for her getting date raped or something.”
“She’s not getting date-raped. She dragged him into the ladies’ room about five minutes ago. I haven’t seen Sasha act so hastily before.” What the fuck? I’ve known Sasha less than a month, and the girl can’t even say cock or sex, and yet, she’s dragging some dude into the ladies’ room? “She’s real-l-l-l-l-l-ly drunk.”
“So are you,” I tell her.
“Yup,” she grins. “We were going to Zuber car it home, but I don’t think she’ll be sharing a Zuber car with me tonight.”
I look around, checking for bouncers and the situation that could arise if I barge into that bathroom. I know it’s not a smart option, but I’m the reason she’s about to get fucked in there right now.
Getting up from my seat, I casually head toward the bathroom, looking in each direction before I make my move. I push open the door quietly, doing my best not to make a bigger scene than I’m about to make. They’re in the fucking corner, not even in a stall. How fucking awkward? Her dress is above her hips, but her panties are still in place, thankfully. Her head is cocked to the side, and the asshole is leaving his mark in a trail from her ear to her collar bone. I stand there long enough to watch his hand slide around to her ass, and I realize at this exact moment the only hand I want on that ass is mine. I’ve never been jealous. I haven’t acted so childish before, but the hell with it, I’ve never had real fucking feelings for anyone either.
I clear my throat, forcing the idiot to stop and look up at me. He looks like he might shit a brick, mostly because he’s another Landon type—tall, scrawny, popped collar, the rich boy show. His hand drops from Sasha’s body, and she turns around to face me, not knowing it was me who was scaring her new little boy toy into stopping his hands from moving where they shouldn’t be moving.
“Jagggggs,” she slurs. “I’d like you to meet…Peter. Peter, Peter, Pumpkin…”
“My name isn’t Peter,” he says.
“It is now, hot stuff,” she mutters.
“Is this your boyfriend?” he asks, fear dripping down his throat in the form of sweat.
“No,” she laughs. “He’s just a friend who told me to get laid tonight.”
“Can we help you then?” Peter asks.
“Let go of my girl,” I tell him. I shouldn’t have called her my girl. She’s not my girl, but I want her to be. She just doesn’t really know that at this moment since I told her to get fucked by someone else.
“First, you tell me to go get fu-u-u-u-cked by someone,” Sasha belts out. The fact that she just said fucked makes me want to start laughing for a quick second, but then I see that his hand is back on her ass. “Now you’re telling me not to get fucked. Make up your mind, Jason Andrew Gaits.”
This dude’s hand tightens around her ass, and I’m across the bathroom before I even realize what I’m doing. I probably snap the guy’s arm in half as I toss him against the opposite wall. In reality, this isn’t his fault, and I’m being a total dick, but his hand was on her ass, and that’s not okay with me.
“—The fuck!” Peter shouts. He’s not coming after me, though. He’s cowering in the opposite corner, clutching his wrist.
“You can’t do this, Jags,” Sasha scolds me. “You don’t get to control me like you’re trying to. You say you like me, but then you tell me to go get laid by someone else. So that’s what I’m doing.”