Page 133 of Overcast

My weak threattowards Stormi had her bouncing out of her seat quicker than I’ve ever seen her move. It was as though I never uttered the words as she stood next to her friend, and they whispered something to each other.

I don’t like it.

I don’t like how Claire just put her hand on Stormi’s hip, more than likely encouraging and about to get her ass in trouble with me.

One of the most dangerous conversations in the world are two females together. They’re diabolical and as ruthless as men because they can be pettier than we could ever dream of being.

And if Mills keeps encouraging Stormi to shake her ass and grind on this Claire chick, I’m going to pummel him until his head caves in.

As if on cue, he slides over to me with a shit-eating grin on his face. As if Stormi finally taking center stage in anything for his viewing pleasure is the best thing since condoms and sliced bread.

“Quit staring at her like you’re casting a spell to burn her alive,” Mills chimes in next to me. “She’s just having fun.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” I retort. “You wanting her to dance for you is ‘fun’, Mills?”

“More for all of us,” he replies off a sigh, kicking his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “What do you think is going to happen? Chill out.”

“You getting a hard dick. And speaking of, get the fuck away from me.” My so-called buddy—and I used that term very loosely—chuckles.

“Don’t worry, bruh, you’re a boner killer.”

I watch both girls stand next to each other, facing Bishop like they are about to go to war with him or something. I can’t see him, they’re blocking my view, but I can only imagine his face.

It’s probably shooting lightning bolts and daggers right now.

A new song plays, and Claire begins to take off, hips swaying and arms raised in the air.

Stormi though, she’s in a stare-off with Bishop.

I don’t know what she thinks she’s going to do, but she’s not going to sway him to do a damn thing he doesn’t want to do. And I’m sure Claire rubbing up on him isn’t his idea of fun right now either.

Not that she isn’t cute, but Bishop never veered towards blondes—thank fuck—and he likes girls with meat on their bones. Claire looks like she should start a Go Fund Me for a McDonald’s gift card to gain a few pounds. I already have to beat Mills off with a stick to fuck off, I don’t need to pull a gun out to warn Bishop to keep his hands to himself.

“Go check Bish,” I tell the moron next to me before a real weapon is pulled out from Bishop’s holster and causes a commotion of panic.

Thankfully, Mills doesn’t argue, knowing that Bishop isn’t afraid to throw caution to the wind and goes to cuddle up with him. Bishop’s arm extends, shoving him away, and Mills chuckles then pats his lap.

Oh, hell fucking no.

Stormi doesn’t see him because the waitress comes back with another drink for Stormi and she downs the fucker in one swallow.

I’m not her guardian, she’s grown and can do what she wants to do.

Except my brain doesn’t make it down to my fists that are now clutched at my sides or my jaw that is about to shatter if I grind it one more time.

Claire somehow is able to put both of her knees on either side of Bishop’s body without there being any ruckus started. Her hips swirl over his lap provocatively, while Mills’ eyes are locked on Stormi.

He makes no move to sway her again in any direction or cause. But when her fingers skim the hem of her t-shirt and slowly lifts, I’m about to fly off this couch.

She inches closer to him, her hips doing the same thing Claire is doing, but she bounces on the tips of her toes as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

As though I nor my idol threat exists anymore.

And I shouldn’t.

We should be done and over by now. I should’ve done what Bishop mentioned and let her go because I wasn’t getting paid for keeping her safe. The only thing I received was her arguing with me, my dick getting hard when she was just herself and me getting irritated in moments like this.

It’s karma in a way.

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