Just then another man stumbled in, clearly drunk.
After a slow and steady gaze up and down Ceci, he mumbled. “I know you.”
“No, you don’t,” she said curtly.
“Yeah, I do, let me think.” His eyes suddenly popped open and he thrust his index finger at her. “Club Montrose! The Snake Charmer!”
Frowning, Clarke stared at her. “Snake Charmer?”
She glared at him before turning to the man.“I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”
“Naw, don’t think so.”
Clarke sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “How in hell did I get here?” he muttered.
The man turned to Clarke. “Did I interrupt you, dude? Should I go out and give you, what say, five minutes to finish the job?”
Clarke gritted his teeth. “Take that back. And while you’re at it—apologize.”
“Why?”
“Why? What is wrong with you? You should never speak like that to a lady.”
“What’s a lady doing in the men’s room?”
Clarke paused. He couldn’t think how to respond. He side-eyed Ceci.
She was scowling. Not at the drunk douchebag. But at him.
“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up!” she roared.
His eyes blew wide open in surprise. “Me?”
“Yes.” She jabbed his chest with her index finger. “You!”
“She’s a feisty one, dude. If you need some help. I’d be happy to oblige.”
Every cell in Clarke’s body wanted to slam this asshole against the wall so hard his teeth would fall out. He knew he couldn’t do that, but he could get up in his face.
He made a move to do so, but Ceci stepped in front of him.
“And how exactly do you propose to help with that wilting lily between your thighs?”
Clarke blinked—stunned.
Glowering at her, the man stumbled forward, shoving Ceci aside as he did.
Clarke’s heart was pumping venom, but this guy wasn’t worth it. He was an idiot.
“Come on,” he muttered.
But before he got hold of her arm, Ceci shoved the man from behind.
“Bitch!” the man bellowed.
Clarke took hold of her elbow. “Come on.”
They headed toward the door, but were stopped when Clarke felt a hand like a bear’s paw seize his shoulder.
