by Alex Wolf
He’s pretending to not look scared, but he’s practically quaking in his fucking Dockers and Bugs Bunny shit. Who the fuck dresses this ass basket? His mother?
I lean down and get right in his face. “You listen to me and listen good.”
He starts to say something, and I grip the collar of his shirt, just hard enough to choke him a little. I really need to calm the fuck down, but I’ve had it with this piece of shit. I already know he’ll play the victim to Abigail after this, but I don’t give a fuck.
“I know the fucking game you’re running, and it ends tonight. You pretend to be her friend when we both know what you’re really up to. You play the nice neighbor and listen to her problems, but all you’re doing is waiting for her to get so drunk she touches that little toddler dick of yours just one time.”
His eyes move to the ground, then he glares back up at me. It tells me everything I need to know.
I let go of his shirt and he gasps for air. I point in his face. “Stay the fuck away from her or the only way you’ll get laid is up in a goddamn hospital bed.”
His buddy steps over and gets in my face. “How about you go fuck yourself. You think you’re better than us in your expensive suit acting all tough? Maybe she likes the attention, and did you ever think maybe she wants one of us to take her home and fuck her? She was pretty flirty before you got here. Yeah, really slutty. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wants both of us to take her home and…”
I don’t hear the rest of his sentence because everything sort of fades off for a second. So much rage consumes me all I see is red and hear people scream and yell.
I ram my forehead straight into his nose and hear the sound of bone crunching against me. Blood spurts down his face.
His voice goes up about four octaves and I’m pretty sure he’s crying, but it’s hard to tell with the blood running down his mouth. He clutches both palms over his nose. “Oww! What the fuck, man?”
Kyle’s eyes go big and he stares up at me. His hands tremble on the table.
Good.
I glare right at him. Fuck it, I already broke his buddy’s nose, I’d better squeeze every ounce of intimidation I can out of the moment. “How about you? You want to try to fuck my girl too?”
He shakes his head back and forth so hard I worry he might injure his neck. “Sh-she’s all y-yours.”
“What I fucking thought.”
Abigail
I don’t know what the hell just happened, but my blood is boiling so hot I can’t see straight. You ever get so damn angry because other people are acting like idiots that it sobers you up instantly?
Suddenly, my thoughts are clear as day and none of them are good.
What the hell is Dexter’s problem? Oh yeah, he has caveman syndrome. He thinks I’m his property.
To hell with men!
I’m going to have to find a new job. I should’ve known better than to get involved with someone at work, let alone a damn partner.
Just as I step outside, the cold air socks me in the face, sobering me up even more. People start shouting inside and there are screams.
Oh my God, what just happened? I start back for the door just as Dexter walks out.
His hands are balled up in fists and a vein bulges on the side of his neck. His friend is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet behind him, like he’s all amped up on adrenaline.
I immediately recognize the guy from his social media pages when I was doing research for Decker. It’s Wells Covington. What the hell does Decker have me doing?
I don’t know if I should say something to Dexter about it. Decker was very explicit in his instructions—although now he’s on my shit list too, for putting me in this situation. I finally decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut; I’m not losing my job to go along with this shit storm of an evening.
Wells follows behind Dex and smirks at me. They stop for a moment and Wells talks loud enough for both of us to hear.
“Thanks for the fun. I’ll find my own way home so you can tend to your situation over there.” He nods directly at me and heat rushes into my face.
I shoot him a scowl I thought only Dexter could deserve tonight. What an asshole.
My nostrils flare and my nails dig into my palms. “Oh, so I’m a situation, Dexter?” I throw my hands up and try to ignore the people now gathering around us on the sidewalk to take in the rest of the show. I spin around and yell at all of them, “What are you looking at? Mind your freaking business!”
“Get in the damn car!”
I start to protest, just because I’m sick of him telling me what to do, until I see the harsh lines on his face. His eyes narrow into two dark, cold slits.
Dexter is being a complete buzz kill.
Yes, I drank more than I should have, but he’s not my father. I can drink if I want to. I don’t have to work tomorrow.
I stomp over and get in the Chevelle, just to get away from all the people on the sidewalk. It’s so damn embarrassing. I lie my head back on the vinyl seat. More and more people are walking out of the bar and staring around.
Why the hell was he so upset? Okay, yeah, I was drunk, but it’s a damn bar and I was with my friends. People from work get hammered there all the time. I’ve gotten drunk with Dexter on more than one occasion, including the time we made out in front of the Chicago Bears.
But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s this: I don’t like Dexter being mad at me.
As much as I know I didn’t do anything wrong, clearly, I did in his mind. My stomach sours at the thought I made him so mad he acted like that. I refuse to take the blame for his bullshit but all I want for now is to get him to calm down. I do know I never want to show my face in The Gage again. It’s completely humiliating. I throw my hands up. And of course that’s exactly what he wants to happen. He’ll be getting his way if I don’t go back there, or go out drinking.
Oh God, and there’s Kyle.
He already hated Dexter. Did Dex punch him? From the sounds of all the hollering, I wouldn’t be surprised. Do I have to choose one of them over the other? Why is Dexter putting me in this position? It’s not right.
We need to get on the same page and fast. This type of thing cannot happen.
Dexter parts ways with Wells Covington and walks over.
He opens the door and slides into the driver’s side. “Buckle your seatbelt.” It’s a command, not a request.
I grind my teeth together. “Stop telling me what to do.”
“Stop acting like an idiot.”
My pulse is running a two-minute mile and I’m about to snap. I whip my head over to him. “You’re the one telling me obvious shit, like to buckle my seatbelt.”
He starts the car and takes off so fast the tires squeal on the pavement. “I’m sorry for being concerned about your safety.”
“You’re insecure and concerned about your ego. Those are your only concerns.”
He snickers, but the vein on his neck is still bulging and I can hear him breathing heavily. He zooms in and out of cars, his fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel. Classic rock filters through the speakers.
I’ve never dealt with this type of situation, outside of seeing it in movies and reading about it in books. I’ve never been in a serious relationship and Dexter is definitely giving off jealous boyfriend vibes. Does he think he’s my boyfriend? We’ve never discussed that. What the hell makes him think he can tell me what to do?
For some reason, everything just filters up to the surface at once and smacks me in the face. Every emotion in the damn book. Shame, embarrassment, anger, hurt. “Take me home.” I growl the words at him, as harsh as I can.
A tingling feeling spreads across the bridge of my nose. Tears threaten to fall, burning in the creases of my eyes. He’s made me mad enough to cry. That alone tells me something. I care about him. I want to say it’s my reputation I’m so upset about, the relationship with my friends, the embarrassment, but I know it’s not. I’m pissed at Dexter and it hu
rts because I want him, and I won’t be with him if this is how he is. I just won’t.
He shakes his head and gives me what I can only describe as a parental-like stare. “Fine.”
I steal a glance over at him and notice a dark crimson blotch on the collar of his shirt. “Is that blood?”
He glances down at his shirt then back up to the road. “Fuck.”
“What the hell happened to you?”
“It’s not mine.”
My eyes bulge and I bare my teeth at him. “What the hell did you do?” Oh my God, is Kyle hurt? Does he need medical attention?
“Nothing, everything’s fine.”
“Tell me what happened, or I’ll jump out of this damn car. Is Kyle okay?”
His face goes red the second I say Kyle’s name, but he takes a deep breath before he responds. “Wasn’t Kyle. His friend said things I didn’t like. My head met his nose. He’ll live, trust me. His pride is the only thing wounded.”
I shake my head. Hearing it was a million times worse than thinking it. “Take me home right now.” My jaw clenches and my fingers tremble against my legs. I’m from Texas and I’m used to men getting in fights, but it doesn’t mean it’s not childish and stupid.
“Getting you there as fast as I can. Trust me.” He snorts. “At least I know you’ll be safe in your own bed and not acting like a goddamn moron.” He grips the wheel even harder.
I scoff. “Classic. Coming from the guy who just headbutted someone in a fucking bar.”
“You know what? That’s fair.” He points a finger at me. “But you were sitting there shitfaced, alone with two dudes who only want to take advantage of you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s so ridiculous, this is insanity. “They’re my friends. At least they were until you showed up. I’m sure they’ll want nothing to do with me now, which is exactly why you did what you did. Congratulations, you got what you wanted.”
“You don’t know why I did what I did because your head is up your ass.”
“They’re nice to me. And I’m nice to them in return. That’s how society works. It’s called friendship. You should try it sometime.”
“Christ, you’re so naïve. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t so dangerous.”
“Well, it’s no longer your concern. This isn’t going to work so you don’t have to worry about it happening again. I won’t be with someone who goes around beating up anyone who talks to me.”
“Would you listen to yourself? I’m not a fucking animal. I didn’t headbutt that douchebag because he was hanging out with you.”
“Why’d you do it then? Enlighten me.”
Dexter shakes his head. “I had reasons, okay?”
I turn in my seat and glare at him. “No, tell me. Don’t hide behind your actions like a chicken shit now.”
His voice kicks up an octave. “Okay, fine. Your friends want to take advantage of you. I know this because I was a guy their age once. I know how they are. They’re bad fucking news and you’re too blind to see it.”
I shake my head. “You’re so full of shit. You were jealous and went into a rage because I was drinking with my friends. The same way you threw a little tantrum when I didn’t want you to kiss me at the office. You’re a grown toddler who kicks and screams when he doesn’t get his way.”
“Oh bullshit, I know that’s all they want from you because they fucking told me.”
I feel the color drain from my face. More tears come and I don’t know what to do because I’ve never felt this way and they won’t stop. My jaw clenches. “You’re lying.”
His eyes dart over my direction and his glare softens. “I got up in Kyle’s face and told him I knew exactly what he was up to and that it was going to end. His buddy got pissed and stood up and told me maybe they’d both go back to your apartment and fuck you, that you’d been all over them all night acting like a slut. That’s when I lost it and headbutted him. He was disrespecting you and he wanted to take advantage of you. Look, Abby, there are women across the country getting shit slipped into their drinks by smarmy little cocksuckers like those two every damn day. I haven’t punched anyone in ten years. I’m not a violent person. Think whatever you want, though. I knew what they were up to from day one, that’s why I’ve been an asshole to them. They’re not your friends, no matter how bad you want to believe they are.”
“Maybe I am naïve, but so what? You have to trust me or this, whatever, between us will never work. You should know me well enough to know I wouldn’t go home and sleep with them. I’m young. I moved to the city to live my life the way I want to live it, to have fun.”
Suddenly, Dexter swerves the car to the shoulder of the road and slams the gearshift into park. He turns and he stares at me so intensely it steals all the air from my lungs. His gaze is different, and I’ve never seen him look like this before. It’s like he’s in pain, on the verge of tears even. He’s totally vulnerable right now, the way he was when he told me about his mom and the pudding. His face is a hundred percent sincere. It’s so intimate and just, I don’t even know how to describe the way he’s looking at me. It’s a look that says, I care about you so damn much it physically hurts. His voice lowers and changes into a pleading tone. “If you want to have fun…” He swallows like he’s choking on his words. “Have fun with me.”
He reaches out with his hand and cups my face and no matter how bad I want to fight it, I can’t. There’s something about him, some cosmic force yanking us together no matter how much I want to resist. I lean into his hand.
“I want you safe.”
“I know, it’s just…”
“I don’t want to argue. I just want you.”
My body takes over and I can’t even think right now. The moment just overwhelms me, and I think part of me just wants to forget everything that happened back at the bar, but at the same time all I can focus on is the truth I can see in Dexter’s eyes. I thought he was just doing the macho, petty jealous guy bullshit, but I can see it all happened because he cares so damn much. And I haven’t ever seen him act violent toward other men. In fact, I’ve only ever seen him be an asshole to Kyle and Nick. Other men have talked to me in Dexter’s presence, and he hasn’t snapped on them. The exact opposite in fact. Maybe he stiffens a little, but nothing more than that, even when Cole Miller shook my hand, or when I talk to other men at the office. The old man and some of the other guys at the MMA fight flirted with me right in front of him and he just grinned, even though I’m sure it irked him a little.
He must be telling the truth about Kyle, but it’s a tough pill to swallow. What a freaking night. Dexter has no reason to lie, and he has no reason to be jealous. I mean, look at him. He could have his pick of the women in Chicago. They’d line up at his doorstep.
I undo my seatbelt, and without a second thought, I slide across the console to his lap. I straddle his thighs and our mouths meet. The temperature in the car doubles instantly. Dexter kisses me deep and hard, but it’s full of emotion. There’s no denying this connection between us, no matter how hard I want to fight against it sometimes. Caressing his hair, I breathe him in as our tongues roll and dance.
“I’m sorry.” Dexter puts both palms on my face and holds me away from him so he can stare into my eyes. “I lost it when he said that shit, but it wasn’t jealousy. It was your safety. I just want you safe, even if you end up not wanting anything to do with me.”
I nod. “Okay.”
His eyebrows quirk up. “Okay?”
“I believe you. Just please don’t hit anyone again, even if they say something about me. I don’t like it. I don’t like this.”
“Okay, I won’t. I promise.”
Gripping my thighs, Dexter gives me a squeeze. A possessive squeeze that says I want you and I will have you. I grind against his cock over his slacks, seeking more friction. All this energy between us from the fight has me so damn turned on I don’t even know if I can wait to get home.
I want this. I
want him. So damn bad it aches.
We finally part and Dexter’s half-hooded eyes sear into me. “Two weeks has been a long enough wait, right?”
I nod furiously. “It’s torture.”
His eyes rake up and down my body as I slide back to the passenger side. Dexter puts the car in gear and floors it back onto the highway.
My entire body heats up and I squirm in my seat.
Holy hell, I’m about to have sex.
Dexter
I put my car in park and go around to the passenger side to open Abigail’s door. I hold my hand out to her and the minute her feet touch the pavement, I flip her up over my shoulder and carry her through the entrance of my building.
The automatic front door syncs to the Bluetooth on my phone and opens for me as I walk up. For once, I start to see some real value from that feature. I haul ass through the foyer. I need in my apartment yesterday.
Abigail laughs as I step into the elevator, careful not to hit her head on the ceiling. “Are you going to put me down?”
“Nope. I’m carrying you the whole way, like they do in your little chick movies.”
“Hallmark.”
“What’s that?”
“The Hallmark romances. Those are the best because they’re so cheesy it’s funny.”
“You calling this cheesy?” I smack her on the ass.
She gasps.
When we get to my door, it automatically unlocks with the app on my phone, but I have to actually turn the handle on this one. We walk through the apartment, and I can tell she wants me to put her down so she can look around the place, but there’s no time for that. She can get a tour later. I want her in my bed right now.
“I can walk you know?”
“Yeah, but I’m having so much fun.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy about you.” I take her straight to my bedroom. Once we’re through the door, I flip the lights on and set her down on the mattress. “I need to ask you something serious. And I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me, okay?”
Abigail nods, no longer joking. “Sure, what is it?”