Page 48 of Tell Me You Like It

He glances around again, and deeming it safe, takes my hand and guides me to the edge of the room, to a dark corner that’s slightly more quiet. The music is still loud, but not nearly as deafening here.

Ash presses me against the wall, his large body shielding me from view. If anyone were to walk by, they’d only see the back of him. He dips his head and whispers in my ear. “You smell sweet, like vanilla.”

It’s my lotion, but I don’t say anything. Guys like a bit of mystery, and it’s better if he thinks it’s the natural smell of my skin. Guys are idiots, and honestly, all they really want is a fantasy. They don’t want a living, breathing woman who eats nachos, and sometimes smells like sweat.

“Thanks,” I say softly, playing this guy like a fiddle. “So, um, about my friend. When you saw her at the beach, what exactly did you see?”

“She was with a guy,” he says.

Okay, good. He’s the second person to say that, so I feellike I’m on to something. “Do you know who? What’s his name?”

Ash’s head is still close to mine, and his gaze is searching my face—like he’s taking in every detail, and trying to decide if he should kiss me or not. “I don’t know. It was dark,” he says. “But he was tall, dark hair, broad.”

I push out a breath. That doesn’t fucking help at all. Half the guys at ExU are tall, dark, and broad. “That’s not a very useful description.”

“I was drunk,” he offers. “So even if he was someone from ExU, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.” He pauses. “But I do remember he had a particular kind of knife.”

I stiffen. “What? Aknife?”

“Yeah, a pocket knife. The kind that collapses. Really expensive.”

I swallow, hoping he’s mistaken. I’m sure a lot of people have pocket knives, but the fact that Bree was last seen with a guy that no one can identify, and now it appears he had a knife. My blood runs cold. “How do you know he had a knife?”

“Because he tossed it to me when I asked around for something to open a new bundle of wood for the fire,” he says.

“But you didn’t see his face?” I ask, doubting this whole fucking thing now. How can you borrow someone’s knife and not see their face?

“I wasn’t really paying that close attention, to be honest.”

Guys are usually fucking oblivious, so I guess I can believe that. “What did the knife look like?”

I’m not above walking around, asking guys if I can borrow their pocket knives.

“It was old, silver, and it had an engraving. I think it wasthe initials W and H, but I don’t know. It was that old fucked up scroll lettering.”

Okay, well, that’s something, I guess. WH. How many people could be walking around with those initials?

“Well,” I say with a smile. “I guess you’re not completely useless, after all.”

His gaze drops from my face and falls to my chest. I’ve always had large breasts, and even a T-shirt can hide them. I suck in a breath, which causes my chest to expand, and my breasts to brush against his chest. His smile deepens, and his head dips again. This time I’m positive he’s going to kiss me, and a small part of me wants him to. He’s hot as fuck, and he’snotRoman Rush, so why not?

I tip my chin up and allow my eyelids to flutter closed, anticipating the feeling of his lips on mine. But seconds later, I hear a growl, and Roman’s deep, angry voice. “The fuck?”

I open my eyes to see Ash turn around to face Roman.

“I thought I made myself clear last night,” Roman says. “Guess not.” And then he throws a punch so quickly, it takes Ash by surprise, and he reels back. Roman catches him square in the jaw, and it’s a second before Ash recovers.

Holding his jaw, Ash straightens, and when he comes up for air, he’s laughing. “She came tome, bro. And you know what, I’m not all that surprised. Maybe she’s just not satisfied with that royally small dick.”

If the insult has any impact on Roman, he doesn’t show it. He smirks a little, as though daring Ash to return fire, and throw a punch of his own. Shockingly, he doesn’t. Not immediately, anyway. He just holds his jaw, his gaze darting between Roman and me like he’s trying to decide if he should engage.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head. “Nah, dude. I’m not looking for trouble.”

As Ash turns on his heel and pushes his way through the crowd that has gathered, the weight of disappointment washes over me. Any additional information I would have gotten from him is now completely fucked. I turn around to face Roman, anger lacing my tone—I can’t help it. He’s fucked this up for thesecondtime, and before I know it, I’m launching myself at him.

I slam my fist into his hard chest, like a wild-fucking animal, but he manages to grab my wrist and hold my arm up, preventing a second blow. Then, in one smooth motion, he flings me over his shoulder and carries me through the club to the front entrance. I’m not light, but he doesn’t even seem to notice my weight. He just smoothly walks to the front door and says something to the valet in a low tone.

While we wait for his car to be brought around, I thrash around, his shoulder blade digging into my stomach.

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