I can’t blame my brother either. I love Roman. My older brother has always looked out for me, and it’s not like I can fault him for being famous or talented. It’s the people who are shitty and use me to get to him.
It was good to learn early on in life that people only ever get close to you to use you. They value you based on what you can provide them with.
Fuck that. I don’t need anybody to live a happy life. I finally have the dream job, living in the best apartment my salary could buy. What more could I need?
That also leaves me with zero people to hang out with. Thinking that maybe I could pick up a guy at a club and get a one-night stand out of him, I decided to come here. A girl has needs after all.
But as my luck would have it, not a single guy in this cluster of drunken fools has caught my attention. Either they’re too sleazy or too cocky for my taste.
Deciding against a one-night stand, I drown myself and my misery in multiple shots of tequila. That’s how I ended up miserable, alone,and drunk in a club full of randos on a Friday night.
“Ma’am, I think you should call someone to take you home,” the nice bartender with very pretty eyes suggests, leaning closer so that I can hear him over the loud music.
I peek at him, my chin resting on my hand. “I have no one to call.” A sigh leaves my mouth, realizing how pathetic I sound.
His eyes again shine with pity, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. “Do you want me to call you an Uber?”
Just as I’m about to answer him, a man appears at my side. His dirty blonde hair sticking to his forehead as the smell of his sweat mixed with his ridiculously expensive cologne burns the hair in my nostrils.
My nose scrunches when he leans in and asks, “Can I buy you a drink, baby girl?” His shaky smile and perusal do nothing for me except make me uncomfortable.Eww. He did not just say that.
Giving him a forced smile, I decline, “No, I’m good.” I get off the stool to make my exit, knowing it’s time to leave. The alcohol in my system causes me to stagger on my feet,making it hard for me to find my balance.
He hovers closer, his hand touching my back without invitation, “Come on. Don’t play hard to get. Why else would you be here alone if not for some cock?”
His indecent and crude words make me gag, as a shiver of disgust rolls down my body. Unfortunately for me, he takes it as an invitation. My body tenses as I try to extricate myself when he grabs my arm.
I look at the bartender, who’s now busy with other patrons, hoping he’ll glance my way. He doesn’t.
Pulling my hand to get rid of his hold on me, I grit, “Let me go.”
The sleazeball doesn’t take the hint, and his body crowds me, my back pressing against the bar counter. My heart rate rockets as his foul breath, laced with the stench of cheap alcohol, hits me.
“Let me go,” I repeat, the pitch of my voice rising higher.
The situation I am in assaults me with similar painful memories, making my breath stutter. But before the panic could set in, I recall that I’ve gotten out once, and I can do it again.
Squaring my shoulders, I’m about to knee him in the balls when a large hand clasps his hand and twists it behind his back. His body, splayed on the bar, struggles to get out of the strong hold.
“I believe the lady asked you to fucking let hergo.” This voice. I would recognize this voice even in my dreams. My loopy eyes follow the owner of the raspy voice and find Ezra. “Or are you hard of hearing?”
How is he here? Why is he here?
The man wails in pain when Ezra applies pressure to his twisted arm. “Next time I see your hand anywhere near her, I’ll rip it off its socket and shove it up your ass,” he growls, his menacing words ringing true.
The man pales at Ezra’s words and apologizes profusely, but I don’t give him a second thought.
All of my drunken attention is on the other man, whose threatening words turn me on for some reason that alludes me.
God! Why do I find the sight of him angry so hot?
It’s probably because I drank my weight in tequila. But that doesn’t stop me from admiring him in his gray tee and black jeans. He fills his clothes in a way no one else can, all sexy and broadshoulders.
Ezra turns and pushes the man away, and like the coward he is, he scurries away like a rat, and my eyes instantly fall on Ezra’s ass.
Fuck, that ass looks good in those jeans.
He swivels to look at me with a scowl and raised eyebrow. “Are you all right?”
