Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
My fake ID works at the door, even though I’m honestly not here to drink. I want attention. Scratch that, I need attention, and from previous experiences, I know men will flirt with me. I realize how pitiful it is. I realize most would be saddened by my behavior, but I’ve grown accustomed to it.
After ordering a seltzer from the bartender, I turn with my back to the subdued bar and watch the small crowd of people relaxing after work.
“Looking for trouble?”
I grin, but don’t turn my head in the direction of the man at my side.
“Not particularly,” I answer.
“I can be gentle if that’s what you like.”
With as much seduction—not really feeling it—as I can muster, I roll my head to the side. The man beside me is tall, his sandy blond hair a shaggy mess with a hoop through his right nostril. Subjectively speaking, he’s a catch. His frame is wide at his shoulders, tapering down to trim hips, but he’s no Flynn.
I let my eyes fall closed, pushing all thoughts and comparisons to that man out of my head. When I open them back up, the guy is watching me with glazed eyes and an endearingly crooked smile.
“I don’t think so.”
“Not interested?”
“I don’t think you could be gentle if you tried.”
“If I can get a dame like you under me, I’d sure give it one hell of a try.”
“Maybe you’d have better control of yourself if I tied you to the bed.”
“I like where your head is at.”
My head isn’t even remotely in this room, but I’ve become an expert at multitasking.
“Think you can still show me a good time if you were tied up?”
“Baby.” His eyes skirt the length of my body, and as cute as he is, it makes my skin crawl. “Tie my hands and sit on my face. It’ll be the most fun you’ve ever experienced.”
“That so?” I turn to face him.
“Why don’t we get out of here and you can find out.” He winks, a creepy action that makes me want to take a step back. “What do you say?”
I cringe away when he lifts his hand to trail a finger down the bare skin of my arm.
“Do you wanna?”
“Do you wanna go to jail?”
Another set of chills run down my spine with the growl, but I don’t turn around.
“She’s sixteen.”
I roll my eyes as the guy in front of me lets his eyes fall to my chest before he looks up and searches my eyes for the truth.
“Dad!” I hiss, spinning around to face him.
Flynn doesn’t look impressed with my old man joke.
“Sorry, man,” the guy that was flirting with me says. “This is a twenty-one and up bar.”
I literally feel the wind of his escape at my back when he scurries off.
This is the first time with him chasing me that I didn’t actually want to be found. I just wanted a little time away, a little time to myself, hoping it would help me not feel so hurt by the words I heard him say. None of it makes any sense. We haven’t expressed any feelings for each other. We haven’t spent time together in a romantic way, and I think it plays to the part of me that needs something more than I’m getting from everyone in my life that seeing him here—frown and all—that makes me a little happy.
“I’m fine,” I say, spinning back toward the bar. “You can leave.”
I pick up the glass of seltzer that I ordered, straw to my mouth only for it to be slapped away, the glass skidding down the bar before falling to the floor and shattering into a hundred shards.
“What the hell was that for?”
“Are you fucking serious?” he seethes.
“I’m twenty-one in less than two weeks, you stupid jerk. And that was seltzer not alcohol.”
“This,” he says pushing against my side. “This is why you need a fucking babysitter. Did you not see him drug your damn drink?”
“He didn’t,” I assure him.
“I saw it from across the room, Remington.” Oh, how I’ve grown to hate the sound of my full name from his dumb lips. “What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”
“Probably gone home with him,” I snap back, even though the thought of getting drugged and raped makes my hands literally begin to shake. “Stay the hell away from me.”
Pushing away from the bar, I turn to head out the front door. He’s right on my damn heels, the warmth of his body a constant reminder that no matter how often I run, he’s going to be right there. At least until he gets to go back to St. Louis and is replaced by the next flunky tasked with ruining my damn life.
“How did you find me anyway?” I hiss once we get outside.
Sweat that formed in the humid bar chills my damp skin, forcing me to wrap my arms around myself.