It’s her turn to stare.
And stare.
And stare.
She’s staring like I’ve never gotten lucky in my life. I’m reasonably attractive. I’ve got some curves. Oh — maybe my boobs are hanging out. I glance down, somewhat insulted on behalf of my girls. They are classily on display tonight. No one has gone astray.
“I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.”
“And then there was that kiss.”
“The WHAT–”
She is cut off by Flint’s abrupt return to the table. I smirk and take another sip of my drink. Let her stew for a minute.
It’s not like I’m not going to tell her everything anyway.
I volunteer to hold the table when Casie and Annemarie decide it’s time to get up anddance. Despite being a smaller town, the pub — no, bar — is filling up quickly. The lights they’ve mounted up near where Calida hides are dancing across the walls and floor. From my higher vantage point, I can see Annemarie tugging Casie into the throng of people on the dance floor.
I find it sad that both women were relieved to leave their drinks with me. In the time I’ve been here, that is one social norm I’ve noticed and been angered over. However, I recognize the badge of honor it is to be trusted with both drinks.
Betsy pulls my attention away from the dance floor as she flops herself into one of the chairs next to me. “It’s my break time.”
Since she brought me a fresh beer, I take a long sip. “I didn’t realize you worked here.,” I reply, mildly interested.
She side-eyes me, taking a pull from her own beer. “I don’t! But damn is it fun!”
I laugh and turn back to watching Casie. She and Annemarie are in the center of the group, arms above their heads, spinning and swaying to the deafening beat provided by the music guy. I’m sure he has an appropriate term, but I don’t know it and don’t much care. With her arms up, more of that long, lean stomach is on display and I can feel my mouth watering.
Just one taste…
“Down boy,” Betsy mutters.
I jerk my gaze back to her. “What?”
“You think just because I’m old, I can’t tell exactly where your brain just went?” she demands.
Busted.
I smile, in what I hope is a charming way. “I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”
She scoffs. “I didn’t believe that when you two were eighteen, and I certainly don’t believe it now.” She gestures towards the dance floor below with her chin. “You should go claim a dance.”
With that, she bounces back to her feet and weaves her way out of sight, slipping through other patrons with ease.
I’d love to go down and dance with Casie but I promised to guard the drinks, so that’s what I do. Settling back in my chair, I sip my beer and watch the two of them laugh and dance in the throbbing mass of bodies. More than a few lingering hands touch one or both of them, but from what I can tell, that is par for the course, so I rein myself in and try to focus on how much fun they both seem to be having. At one point, Casie is laughing so hard she has to double over, holding her ribs and gasping for breath.
One creepy party-goer catches my eye as he moves towards Casie with a predator’s intent. One predator recognizes another, after all. He’s wearing jeans so light they’re almost white and some shirt featuring an over-the-top skull with wings print that’s at least two sizes too small. It looks like it’s eating him. Maybe he should focus that intent on his clothing rather than my female, as he takes her laughter as an invitation to run his hands over her ass, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him.
Rage is instantly taking over my brain. I’m dimly aware of the beer bottle in my hand shattering, raining beer down my arm and glass onto the questionable floor.
Who. The fuck. Is this. Fuckstain.
As he turns and the light swirls, I recognize the asshole I’d previously chased off at the bookshop. Brentor Brad or something. I’ve seen him come in a couple of times since then, but never when Ash is working, so I’ve let it go.
I’m on my feet, hands gripping the ancient wooden railing before the thought ever enters my consciousness. Despite my growing need to feel his bones breaking under my fists, I try to remind myself that Casie can handle herself and has never needed me to fight her battles for her.
She does what she can to put space between them — dancing away, putting Annemarie between them, losing herself in the crowd of dancing bodies.
