“How much did you guys drink?”
“Not how much. What.”
“Huh?”
“I only had a few shots. But it was absinthe.”
“Goddamn it, Logan.”
“It was good.” To my utter chagrin, she’s grinning. Pleased with herself. “Maybe not the taste. It’s like…a bag of black licorice exploding in your throat. But then…it’s good!”
I swallow a sigh. “Come on, let’s get you up.” I help her to her feet, but she’s wobbling hard. “Where are your shoes?”
She stares at her feet, but it takes several seconds for it to register there’s nothing on them. “Oh. I…don’t know.”
I nudge her toward the short railing so she’s leaning on something. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m going in there to find your shoes and have a talk with this asshole.”
“Who? Landon?” She gasps. “Oh no, he’s great. Don’t be madat Landon. He’s not a car. I mean, he can’t drive a car. He’s wasted.”
My anger doesn’t ebb. “He left you out on the porch like a piece of trash, Blake. Wait here.”
I reach the front door just as it swings open and I encounter a familiar mullet.
The bartender from town staggers out, looking worse for wear. Mullet sticking out in all directions. Eyes bloodshot. But his expression brightens when he spots me.
“Yeah! We got a driver!” He peers past my shoulder to grin at Blake. “See! Told ya someone would come.”
“Someone came!” Blake confirms, and they beam at each other like a pair of drunken idiots.
I’m spitting mad. This jackass is just standing there grinning while Blake was alone on the porch steps for God knows how long, her feet dirty and bare, her dress riding up her thighs for the whole goddamn neighborhood to see.
Clenching my jaw, I advance on the mullet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He startles. Blinking rapidly. “Wha…”
“I showed up here to find her half-asleep on the porch. You left her out here? At midnight?”
“I was pissing,” he protests. “She was fine.”
“Anybody could’ve walked by and found her like that.”
“What are you, her dad—”
I cut him off by grabbing a fistful of his collar and slamming him against the side of the house, hard enough to rattle his teeth.
“She could’ve been hurt, you piece of shit,” I growl. “You left her outside, drunk out of her mind, for who knows how long.”
Landon raises his hands in surrender, gulping visibly. “She’s fine, man. Jesus.”
“She couldn’t even sit up because she was dizzy.” I push him again. “You think abandoning a woman after pouring absinthe down her throat is something men do? Real men? You fucking loser.”
“Wyatt,” Blake protests from the bottom of the steps. Her voice sounds weak.
I draw a calming breath. Force myself to release his collar.
“Good,” he mutters. “Glad you’ve come to your senses—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I interrupt, pinning him with a deadly look. “Don’t ever come near her again, you hear me? Don’t text her. Don’t call her. Don’t eventhinkabout her. You’re done.”
