Page 93 of Surfer's Paradise

Isaac sighed, raising a hand for the next available cab.

When it rolled up, he grabbed the door, swung it open, and turned to her.

“Rosie.”

She folded her arms. “No.”

He exhaled.

Then, with zero hesitation, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her right the fuck up, and shoved her inside.

“Isaac!” she screeched, scrambling, glaring, but too damn drunk to fight him off properly.

He smirked, leaned in, buckled her seatbelt.

Then, just as she slapped him, Chris and Shay stumbled out of the bar just in time to catch the scene.

Chris laughed so hard he nearly choked. “Holy fuck. Did you just kidnap her?”

Isaac flipped him off and got into the cab behind her, shutting the door, giving the cab his home address.

Isaac slammed the cab door shut, exhaling hard, his pulse still racing from shoving Rosie inside like a drunk, angry little tornado.

The cab pulled away from the curb, the city lights gliding past the window, the hum of tires over pavement filling the silence.

Isaac looked over.

Rosie was fuming.

Absolutely seething.

Her arms were crossed so tight it looked painful, her jaw clenched, her gaze locked on the window like she was plotting her revenge.

Isaac smirked, poking her thigh.

“Hey. Hey, Coco.”

She didn’t move.

He poked her again. “Still mad?”

She turned her glare on him so fast it was a miracle he didn’t drop dead on the spot.

“I’m going to jump out of this fucking car.”

Isaac barked out a low laugh, shaking his head. “You’re gonna jump off the fucking bridge?”

She lifted her chin defiantly.

“Yup.”

He grinned. “That’s dramatic as hell. Even for you.”

She didn’t hesitate. She slapped him. Again.

Isaac caught her wrist, gripping tight, laughing.

“Jesus, woman, you gotta—”

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