Rage flooded me, and I couldn’t control myself, pivoting and smashing my fist into Matt’s face.
I was a few inches taller, but he definitely outweighed me by at least 20 or 30 pounds and he grabbed me around the waist and rammed me into the side of the wall.
Dolly screamed shrilly, once again totally useless, like a mosquito.
I gripped Matt by the collar and aimed another blow at him, our wrestling bodies rolling over the back of the couch and crashing into the coffee table.
Then I was suddenly doused with about a gallon of water, and I felt long nails dig into my skin as a hand firmly twisted the neck of my T-shirt, dragging me off of Matt.
God, how many fights had Rosalie broken up over the years?
Dumbass bar fights just because some woman’s husband had gotten mad at me. Times I’d gotten too carried away with my anger at the paparazzi.
Ro always the only person who could ever get through to me.
“Stop it, idiot!” she snapped.
Stupid Dolly was still shrieking at the top of her lungs, only stopping when Matt and I broke apart.
“Wow, Rosalie!” she breathed. “That was amazing!”
Rosalie barely looked out of breath, still in her bare feet with those long, tanned legs temptingly right in front of me.
“Everyone out!” I snarled, hoping to grab my girl and fuck her into next Tuesday.
No fucking wayMatthad fucked her properly.
Iwas the only one who knew how to take care of Rosalie.
But Rosalie had an arm around both Matt and Dolly and was sweeping them out the door with her.
“Leave him,” she advised, glaring at me. “He gets these little celebrity temper tantrums sometimes, and if we don’t give him any attention he’ll stop.”
“Rosalie, I want to talk to you,” I growled, but she ignored me completely.
Matt gave me a compassionate look just before Rosalie slammed the door in my face.
What the fuck was that look supposed to mean?
Why was he feeling sorry for me?
When this absolutely wasnotgoing to happen again. I was putting my foot down.
The hell was wrong with Rosalie? How could she be this mad at me? She had to know she was my main girl. My stomach was in knots as bile rose in my throat.
I vented my feelings by flinging the whiskey glasses into the fireplace, then felt like a jackass.
“Get out of here,” I growled at the rest of my bandmates. “Everyone out.”
Grabbing my phone, I texted Rosalie as anger and panic pounded through my veins.
Get back here
This isn’t over
No response.
You can’t leave it that like
