“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.” I try for the apologetic smile to ease my refusal, but all he does is frown at me.
“You won’t even take a ride from me. First you treat me like shit and will hardly talk to me and now you won’t even get in my car? I mean, what the hell? Do you think you’re too good for me or what?” Tad spits out at me.
I’m in shock. Too good for him? What is he talking about? “I’m not trying to offend you …”
“Too late,” he interrupts, grabbing hold of my arm with so much force I yelp. “Though you’ll make it up to me if you let me take you home.”
There’s no way I want this idiot to know where I live. “Let me go,” I say, trying to jerk out of his grip, but he’s holding on too tight. Any tighter and I’m afraid he’ll bruise my skin.
“Come on, Chelsea. Loosen up, would you? This virginal act has got to go.” Tad’s whining now, which is almost as bad as angry Tad. “I’m just looking for a little fun.”
So not the kind of fun I was talking about with Kari earlier. “Tad, please …”
“Let her go.”
The familiar deep voice comes from behind us and I turn on a gasp to find Owen Maguire standing there, glaring at Tad like he wants to rip his head off. Relief floods me, heady and strong, as Tad loosens his grip, and I swear I sway a little when he lets me go.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Tad says, backing away from me with his hands up in front of him, his eyes never leaving Owen.
“Then keep moving and you won’t have any,” Owen practically growls as he stalks toward us so he’s standing right next to me, his expression menacing as he stares Tad down.
Wow. No guy has ever come to my rescue quite like that before. Owen looks fierce, too, his hands clutched into fists at his side, his brows drawn down, eyes cold and mouth grim. Tad turns and breaks into a run, where to I’m not sure. I’m just glad he’s gone.
Breathing deep, I turn to look at Owen, startled when I find him already looking right at me. “Thank you,” I say, irritated when my voice comes out some breathy little whisper like I’m a dumbstruck girl.
Which I am. Not that I would ever admit it.
“What were you doing with that guy?” he asks, sounding irritated and looking mad. And hot.
Like, all sorts of hot. Those intense green eyes latch onto me like they’re never going to let me go and he turns more fully toward me, his broad shoulders blocking my view. Gosh, he’s tall! I tip my head back, trying to ignore the wave of yearning that washes over me at his nearness. He seems to make my brain short-circuit every time I get close to him.
“Um, my friend and I met up with him and his friend for a drink,” I explain, wincing when I see his eyes widen.
“Aren’t you underage?” he asks incredulously.
“Aren’t you?” I toss back. God, he has some nerve. Who is he to talk?
“I work here. I’m not trying to sneak in and have a few drinks.” He says the words as if he’s passing judgment, but I see the waver in his gaze. I would bet big money he’s done the very same thing, though probably not here since he claims he works here. “Where’s your friend?”
“Inside.” I wave my hand toward the door.
“And she didn’t leave with you?” He shakes his head. “Some friend.”
“Hey, don’t knock her. Kari’s my best friend.” Practically the only friend I have.
“Could’ve fooled me. I thought best friends take care of each other.”
Talk about cutting straight to the bone. “That was totally uncalled for.” I tilt my head, lifting my nose to the air with a tiny sniff. My dad may have lost all our money and left us broke while he languishes in prison, but I can still pull off that haughty rich-girl attitude when I need to.
Tad’s words come back at me. Am I acting like I’m too good for Owen? I feel so defensive with him. Why does this guy affect me so much? It’s unnerving how attracted I am to him. No guy does this to me and here I am, all hot and bothered and feeling a little feverish. All over a guy.
“Only speaking the truth,” he says with a shrug. “Do you have a way home?”
“I do.”
“How?” He looks skeptical, which he should. I can’t pull anything on anyone, I swear.
“I’m calling a cab.” I open up my phone again, once more searching for a taxi. “Thank you for helping me,” I add, always polite, always so freaking good and never doing anything outrageous or wrong. Too afraid to get in trouble so I don’t stray.
“Chelsea.” He snags the phone from my hand and I lift my head on a gasp. Who does he think he is? I make a grab for my cell, but he’s holding the phone above his head. Like a stupid little kid, I jump up and try to grab it from him. He laughs, but it’s sorta grim-sounding, and I wonder what’s wrong with me.
I feel … giddy. Did Tad spike my water or my Coke or something? I don’t feel right. My head is spinning and goose bumps dot my skin when I brush against Owen. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt that’s rumpled from what I can only assume is a hard day’s work and black pants. He looks cute.
Fine. He’s more than cute. He’s gorgeous. And sexy. I never think a guy is sexy. Owen sure is.
And maybe that’s my problem.
Owen
I hold her phone over my head because I’m enjoying her hopping and trying to get it. Her tits bounce with every jump and though they’re not huge, I’m still checking them out. That lace top she’s wearing is interesting, offering me a glimpse of skin that’s not overtly sexy but still sorta hot.