Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
I squeeze his neck. “Stop.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m telling you, stop before you hurt yourself.”
Wyatt’s pulling me back again, saying, “Let him go, Cash. He ain’t worth it.”
“Let him go, my God,” Mollie repeats. “Right now. Please.”
I meet her eyes. They’re alive, gleaming in the neon light of a Pabst Blue Ribbon sign. I see anger there, sure. A little fear.
And a flame that ignites a fire inside my skin.
I release my hold on Palmer. He straightens, spits on the floor.
“Get gone.” I put my hands on my hips, breathing hard. “Don’t ever—ever—come back. While you’re at it, stop toyin’ with women, yeah?”
I half expect him to lunge for me again. If he leaves now, he’s running with his tail between his legs. But like the coward he is, he looks at me. Looks toward the door.
Doesn’t even look at Mollie before making a beeline for the exit.
A beat later, the roar of tires on gravel fills the silence inside the bar.
“That escalated quickly.” Ryder passes me a bar napkin. I use it to wipe my hands. “Care to explain what happened?”
Mollie stays rooted to the spot. She’s staring at me.
“What?” I crumple the napkin and toss it into the trash can behind the counter. “Guy was showin’ his ass. I gave him the attitude adjustment he needed.”
“An attitude adjustment?” Mollie stares at me. “Cash, you punched him in the face.”
“Only after he punched me.”
“It—I—seriously, it doesn’t matter. There’s never a good reason to punch someone.”
“I beg to differ.”
Her eyes toggle between mine. Searching. For what?
She looks as mixed up as I feel.
Why are you messing around with clowns like that?
Why does that fact make me lose my ever-loving mind?
“What is wrong with you?” she asks.
Wish I knew. “I was sticking up for you.”
She squares those shoulders. “You know what? I’m—I should—” She throws up her hands. “I need a minute.”
“Mollie—”
“Don’t.” She moves past me. I resist the urge to grab her. “Nothing you can say right now will make this better.”
“Let me explain what happened.”
“Violence is never the answer!” she hollers over her shoulder, then disappears into the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.
It’s only then do I realize the entire bar is staring at us.
Well, everyone’s staring at me now that Mollie is gone, their gazes bright with curiosity.
“Aw, your first lovers’ quarrel,” Duke says.
I grit my teeth. “You best mind your mouth before I punch you too.”
He gives me a shit-eating grin. “Meant no harm. Just…not like you to, you know, be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The one punching other guys over a girl.”
It ain’t like me.
Also ain’t like me to chase what I can’t have.
But that’s exactly what I do as I make a beeline for the bathrooms, ignoring the stares that follow me.
My heart’s going apeshit inside my chest. I don’t know what I’m gonna say or how I’m gonna make this right.
All I know is, Mollie’s been disappointed for the last time.
She’s been hurt by some idiot dickhead for the last fucking time.
CHAPTER 21
Mollie
DIRTY LOOKS
I’m shaking as I push through the bathroom door.
Cash punched Palmer because he upset me.
Not only did Cash punch Palmer. He also knew, somehow, that Palmer hurt my feelings when he flirted with those cute girls in the cowboy hats. Yeah, I don’t want anything serious with him, but it still sucked to see him on the prowl when he’s supposed to be here with me.
Cash was paying attention. To me. In a bar crowded with pretty women, I was the one he was watching. And when he saw something he didn’t like—
Well, he took action.
Stepping up to the sink, I look in the mirror and put a hand on my face. I’m bright red, my skin hot to the touch.
Is Palmer okay? Should I call him? He was being kind of a dick. And he did start the fight, although I’m sure Cash had a hand in egging him on.
Honestly, I feel…relieved that Palmer left. Which means what, exactly?
Pondering the answer, my legs turn to Jell-O. My heart elbows against my breastbone, its urgent jabs making it difficult to breathe.
Holy shit, Cash was watching me. He cares about how I feel. Who I’m with. What does that mean?
I have feelings for Cash. No denying that. But I think I might’ve just been presented with incontrovertible evidence that he has feelings for me too.
Cash pays attention to me in a way no one has. Ever.
My eyes burn. I cover them, throat locking up with the sudden urge to weep.
I whirl around at a loud bang. Cash stands in the doorway, looking so good—so angry—my right knee literally gives out. I grab at the lip of the sink behind me, steadying myself.
“You can’t—you shouldn’t be in here,” I stammer.
The door swings shut behind him as he stalks into the room. His scent—eucalyptus, skin kissed with sweat—fills my head.