Page 9 of Something that Could Last

“Why, yes I do. Thanks, handsome.” I'm just buzzed enough that this interaction makes me giggle. Tiff turns to glare at me, but her spirits are instantly lifted when Luke hands her another Long Island.

“Wow, that was fast,” she exclaims.

“I went ahead and ordered it when you started back this way. You looked like you needed a refreshment.” His cocky smirk is almost charming. Almost.

“Awwwww, you're so thoughtful,” Tiff draws out, pressing herself up against his chest. Gag! She knows he’s trying to run his game on her, and she’s encouraging him. Luke may be a player, but he just met the coach.

“You want another shot of Crown?” Jacob's question is a welcome distraction from these two and theirverypublic displays of affection.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Oh, and just a single this time.” I'll eventually have to drive Tiff and myself home, so I need to take it easy on the booze. Besides, I haven’t eaten in over eight hours, and this top-shelf liquor is working fast. When he hands me my drink a few minutes later, I thank him and down the potent elixir in one gulp. He watches me with an intensity in those icy blue eyes that makes me feel naked and vulnerable. It's an unsettling feeling, but I kind of like it.

“I'm ready to dance again. Let's go.” Tiff grabs my hand and leads me back to the dance floor. There are hot, writhing bodies everywhere, and we have to shoulder our way through the crowd to make it back to our spot.

We're three songs in this time when I feel hands on each side of my waist. I start to turn around to see which one of these assholes is grabbing me without invitation when he leans in and speaks into my ear.

“Abby,” he breathes my name. This one word breaks my resolve to be a good girl and not get involved with this handsome stranger. I close my eyes and lean into him. I hear his quick intake of breath before his body molds to fit mine, the sculpted muscles of his chest and abdomen pressing against my back. He trails his fingers up my arm, leaving a searing path of heat in their wake. I can't suppress the shudder that moves through my body as a result. I am lost to his touch and all I can hope is that it never ends.

Jacob

I COULDN'T RESISTthe temptation any longer. I had to touch her, feel her. I needed to know what her body felt like pressed against mine. I watched her dance for a while, letting her seduce me with the sensual sway of her hips. When she looked at me over her shoulder with those smoldering green eyes, as if she was daring me to come to her, my resolve shattered. I observed from the sidelines until I simply couldn't take it anymore.

When we left Rosie's earlier this evening, I wasn't sure how this night would go. Abby's apprehension was palpable. I was afraid she’d bolt once she got in her truck. I’m pretty sure the thought crossed her mind, too, when she stopped her truck in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. I was relieved when it continued in my direction.

On the way here, I had to listen to Luke describe, in graphic detail, all the ways he was going tohaveAbby's friend, Tiffany. Less than five minutes in a car with his drunk ass and I was ready to open the door and push him out of a moving vehicle. If I had to hear the phrase “hit it and quit it” one more time, I was going to throat punch him.

When we got to The Red Stallion, I still sensed a little uneasiness on Abby's part, but Tiff's excitement seemed to rub off on her. Once we were inside and Abby had a couple shots, she started to relax a little and her spirited personality began to reveal itself.

Now that I’m out here, dancing with her, all I can think about is getting her alone. It takes everything I have not to spin her around and kiss her in front of all these people, but I don't want to freak her out. I want to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me, so I do. The smell of her hair is intoxicating and I force myself to pull back to avoid burying my nose in it and sniffing her like a total creeper.

I move my hands from her hips to caress her smooth, tan arms, and she turns her head to peer up at me from the corner of her eye. I sweep her hair away from her beautiful face with the back of my hand. How can anyone be this perfect? Again, I contemplate kissing her, but I'm not sure if I should. She might slap me. But then again, it might just be worth it.

We continue to dance and I'm not sure how much time has passed, because all I can think about is her. Being near her, touching her. I am lost to her. When I'm finally able to focus on something else, I lift my gaze to see Luke and Tiffany grinding and shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. Gross. Do neither of them have any shame? Of course not. They’re both hammered right now. When Abby notices them, she turns to me with a disgusted look on her face.

“Eww,” she says with her nose wrinkled and her face scrunched, which is positively adorable. “Let's go play pool,” she suggests.

Yes, ma'am. Does she realize I would follow her anywhere?

“I need another drink after seeing that.” She shakes her head as if trying to erase the memory of our friends dry humping on the dance floor from her mind. I order her another double shot of whiskey in the hopes that the image will soon be forgotten. She drinks it down and grabs my hand, leading me to the pool table. The unexpected contact takes me by surprise and I smile to myself like an idiot. Luckily there's nobody occupying the pool table, but whoever was here last left all the pool balls in the pockets. As she starts to gather them up, I decide to grab another beer, so I let her know I'll be right back.

The crowd surrounding the bar has grown thicker since our arrival earlier this evening. It takes a few tries for me to flag down the bartender, but once I flash him a couple extra bills, he abandons the bachelorette party he's been flirting with and shoves an open bottle at me. Drink in hand, I head back towards Abby. Tiff has joined her but Luke is nowhere to be found.

Halfway there, I notice some guy walk up behind Abby and start talking to her. His two buddies are flanking him like the most ridiculous wingmen to ever step foot in a bar. I'm immediately pissed off that some douche is hitting on her already. I haven't been away from herthatlong.

As I advance towards them, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Abby’s posture and the look of irritation on her face are setting off major alarm bells. The way she’s gripping the pool stick in her hand like she's about to hit someone with it concerns me. When I finally make it back to her, I realize what’s fueling her anger.

“Come on, Abs. Just one dance. For old time's sake,” the jackass in the plaid button down and baseball hat says, leaning into her. He reeks of tequila and desperation.

“Don't call me that,” Abby spits out through gritted teeth.

I fight the urge to lay this cocksucker out right here and now. If he comes one inch closer to her, I'm going to lose my shit. She’s visibly uncomfortable, bristling at his proximity. I need to keep my anger in check if I'm going to handle this civilly. Setting my beer down, I step up next to her, close enough to let him know she’s not here alone.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask, placing a comforting hand on her back. Abby turns her body into mine slightly and I feel a little triumphant.

“Yeah, it's fine. Grant was just leaving,” Tiff says, staring daggers at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Grant demands, pointing at me.

This drunk redneck doesn’t know who he’s fucking with.

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