I know the things I’m feeling aren’t just going to go away any time soon, which is incredibly frustrating for someone who’s never felt these kinds of things before, and never really planned to.
“That’s good. I’m glad you had a good time,” Archer drawls, waking me up from the highly inappropriate daydreams I’m having.
“Yeah, thanks,” I smile politely, hoping this awkward encounter is about to end.
“I don’t suppose you’ve changed your stance on the whole dating thing, have you?” he asks, and if I’d been drinking, it would have been spit out at the unexpected question.
“I don’t suppose she has,” another familiar voice says from behind me.Holland.
Again, drink, all over the place if I’d been drinking anything. Where the hell did he come from?
Holland’s strong arm wraps around my waist, and I can feel my face get hot as Archer’s eyes wander over where Holland’s hand rests on my hip.
What the hell is he doing, and why do I find it kind of sexy? Like he’s being possessive over me, even though we aren’t official. I should hate it, right? I should tell him that I’m not some prize to be won, or a mailbox he can piss on to claim his territory.
But here I am, thinking that it’s actually hot that he’s claiming me in front of another guy.
“Holland, right?” Archer asks, pointing at Holland. Holland nods curtly.
“Yep, and you’re the guy from the party,” he acknowledges, and I can’t believe he remembers that. I didn’t think he was really paying attention. Apparently, I was wrong.
Archer nods, looking kind of nervous but also attempting to keep his cool. It’s obvious that Archer isn’t comfortable with any sort of confrontation.
Chuckling nervously, Archer says, “that would be me. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you guys werea thing.”
His eyes dart between both of us, watching as Hollands hand moves over my hip and up to my waist protectively, possessively.
I can feel the goosebumps rise on my skin from the sensation, but I try my best not to show that the small touch affects me.
“Oh we’re-” I begin, but Holland’s reply cuts me off.
“Yeah, well, we are. So you can go now,” he tells Archer, and I can’t believe how rude he’s being. I mean, I can be a bitch, but only to people that deserve it. Archer hasn’t done anything to warrant Holland’s nastiness.
Archer looks at me again, this time with a bit of disappointment. I feel a small pang in my chest as I watch his body deflate.
“Right, okay. I guess I’ll see you around, Lainey,” he says as he shoves his hands in his pockets and begins to walk away.
When he’s out the door, I whip around to face the jerk who just broke that poor man’s heart.
Slapping his arm, Holland’s face contorts in pain as he grabs the spot I just assaulted.
“What the hell was that?” I ask, trying my best to act more annoyed than turned on. I mean, he could’ve been a bit nicer to the guy, but it was seriously hot seeing him get so territorial over me.
“What the hell wasthat,” he asks, rubbing his injury. I shake my head in disbelief.
“You deserved it! What the hell was that macho, tough guy, possessive shit?”
Holland smirks, and damn it, my panties might just melt right off. Crossing his arms across his broad chest, Holland stands a bit taller.
“That was me claiming what’s mine,” he tells me, matter-of-factly.
I scoff. “What’s yours, huh?”
Holland nods, taking a step closer until he’s completely in my space. His index finger slides under my chin and lifts my face slowly so that my eyes meet his.
“Yes, what’s mine. You’re mine, now, Barkley. Not his, not anyone else’s.Mine.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
