Inevitably, I’d get her naked again. Get her to see that resistance was fuckingfutile.
Because I was never gonna give up onher.
Patience; I hadit.
I was never gonna give up on what Iwanted.
And what I wanted was mywife.
I looked over at her now, down the row of booths—and some-fucking-how, Xander, Steel Trap’s pussy hound of a drummer, had ended up wedged in right next toher.
Fuckme.
I’d already noticed him sniffing her out backstage. Xander was an old friend of Dylan’s, and we’d always been cool with each other, but the dude was a rotten, filthy fucker when it came to women. I could see the way he was looking at Maggie, and it was making my food go down allwrong.
It was housemade chili, it was good, but at the moment it was kinda stuck in my throat in a hotglob.
I cleared my throat, sipped my water and tried to pretend I was interested in whatever Elle was saying next to me. I waited for my chili to cool down a bit, and I watched Xander sling his arm around the back of Maggie’s seat while he talked to her. Dude was sitting totally sideways, all wrapped up inher.
Then I watched him reach right for hertits.
Classic douchebagmove.
He was going in for her necklace—so he could touch her,almosttouch her tits and see how shereacted.
The necklace was pretty; the delicate silver chain with the clear pink stone that her mom had given her. It stood out against her smooth, warm-honey skin. She was wearing a V-neck sweater, and the stone sat flat against her chest, right between herbreasts.
Maggie’s gray eyes went wide as she suddenly clocked what Xander was doing; she saw it coming a lot slower than Idid.
He scooped up thestone.
A spoonful of chili hit him right on the side of the face. Temple shot. Saucy beans and meat running down hischeek.
“THEFUCK?”
Xander turned to look down the line of booths as pretty much everyone turned to look in mydirection.
“Sorry,” I called over. “Did I getyou?”
“Yeah, you fucking got me.” Xander grabbed the nearest grabbable food—half-eaten burger off Dylan’s plate—and whipped it at me. “Fucker.”
Iducked.
And a food fight brokeout.
“Come on,” Dylan protested, “I was gonna eat that…” But his voice was lost in the ensuingchaos.
Food filled the air and shit got out of hand quick. Chicks screamed and dove under the tables or fled to the corners of the room as condiments, full dishes and drinksflew.
Then it ended about as fast as it started—me with fucking mustard all over my leather vest and ketchup in myeye.
Jesse got the worst of it. Seafood sauce dumped on his head, all over his face, and dripping down hisshirt.
I might’ve had something to do withthat.
“You’re all a bunch of assholes,” he said, wiping seafood sauce off his face. But he was grinning when he saidit.
“Shit, brother.” I laughed so fucking hard I snorted ketchup; it was up my nose, too. “You are gonna fuckingstink. Good luck getting laidtonight.”
