I smirk, falling back?—
“Been seeing each other long?”
She jumps in?—
“Who me? And Andrew Harding?” She laughs at the idea. “You know how it is. Just tied up once or twice.”
“Once,” Andrew says into his drink.
“He doesn't pass through often,” Redhead continues, a sultry smile crawling over her lips as she squeezes his thigh. “So tonight, I'm keepin' that mouth mine.”
Andrew chokes on his soda water, the glass clinking as he leans in and drops it on the table. Grabs her wrist, slides her hand off his thigh. “How about you don’t say that shit when she’s sittin’ right fuckin’ there.”
My laugh is light as I stand,
Andrew’s stare climbing with me.
“So I’m just gonna fuck off stage left,” I say.
“Leave you two alone.”
But she doesn't give me a second to turn.
She's already leaning into him,
her voice lowering to a whisper loud enough for me to hear—“One hand slip, and you'd feel what you're doin' to me right now," she says into his ear. “C’mon, Harding. Ten minutes in the bathroom.”
And suddenly, my heart's paralyzed.
Not in acan’t-feel-anythingway.
In acan-feel-everything-but-can’t-moveway.
She’s moaning for him
and his eyes are burning into me like?—
C’mon, Sonny. Take me.
Rip her off.
Say I’m yours and I’ll drop her right now.
Be the jealous bitch I know you are.
“Not wearing panties…” she keeps going,
“No one would notice if you slipped under my skirt right here.”
My stomach’s spinning.
And my body's turning.
And turning.
And turning.
And there’s Mikey.
