Page 57 of Jolt's Vengeance

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Only the best for my girl."

The possessive term makes my skin crawl, but I bite back the urge to snap at him.

It's not his fault I'm in a shite mood tonight.

"Can I get you a drink?" Trevor asks, already half-turning toward the keg.

I nod, figuring some liquid courage might help me get through this night. "Sure, thanks."

As Trevor heads off to fetch me a beer, one of his frat brothers—Jake, I think his name is— sidles up next to me. "So, you're the famous Aggie we've been hearing so much about."

I arch an eyebrow. "Famous, huh? Should I be worried about what exactly you've been hearing?"

Jake laughs, a little too loudly. "Only good things, I promise. Trevor won't shut up about how smart and beautiful you are."

Great. Just what I needed—more guilt to pile on top of everything else. "That's... sweet of him," I manage, my voice strained.

Jake leans in closer, his breath reeking of cheap beer. "You know, if you ever get bored of Trevor, I'd be happy to show you a good time."

I fix him with an icy glare that would make my ma proud. "I'd rather stick my hand in a blender, thanks."

Before Jake can respond, Trevor returns with my drink. "Here you go, babe. Having fun?"

I physically want to vomit.

I’m. Not. His. Babe.

I take a long swig of lukewarm beer to avoid answering right away.

The truth is, I'd rather be anywhere else right now, and while I’ll be talking to him about this ‘babe’ nonsense later, I won’t emasculate him in front of his buddies.

I force myself to nod and lie straight through my teeth. "Yeah, it's great. Thanks for inviting me."

Trevor beams, clearly oblivious to my discomfort.

He throws an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "I'm so glad you're here. Want to dance?"

The thought of being pressed up against Trevor's sweaty body on the makeshift dance floor makes my skin crawl.

But before I can come up with an excuse, a commotion near the front door catches everyone's attention.

"Holy shit, is that who I think it is?" one of Trevor's frat brothers exclaims.

I crane my neck to see what all the fuss is about, and my heart nearly stops.

Because there, striding through the front door like he owns the place, is Jolt.

The man who's been haunting my dreams.

His dark eyes scan the room, and when they land on me, I swear a jab of electricity rushes through my body.

Trevor mutters, his arm tightening possessively around me. "Who invited the biker trash?"

I shrug off his embrace, my eyes never leaving Jolt.

"I need some air," I say abruptly, pushing my way through the crowd toward the back door.

The cool night air is a blessed relief after the stifling heat of the party. I lean against the railing of the back porch, trying to calm my racing heart.

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