Page 147 of Wild Eyes
He chuckles, as an usher hustles toward us, likely rushing to tell us to sit down. “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to stay for the rest of this show. Get me the fuck out of here, Coach Thick Thighs.”
West smiles down at me. “With pleasure.”
“We’re going, we’re going,” I politely assure the usher as West takes my hand to lead me out of the building.
“Yeah, we’re going.” West holds up his index finger to the scrawny kid. “I just have one thing I need to do.”
My brow furrows as he leads me several rows up the aisle.
Right to where my parents and agent are seated. My dad is red-faced. Again. Clearly not a fan of my acceptance speech. But he still has the gall to stand up and reach aroundWest to shake my hand.
Which is when West strikes.
His fist flies hard and fast. The blood that sails from my father’s mouth, though? I follow its arc in fascinated slow motion.
There are gasps. Shouts.
West takes my dad by his collar and sits him back in his seat like he’s a rag doll. “You want to talk tomygirl, asshole? Yougo through me. And I’m not letting you anywhere near her ever again. Understand?”
I blink and step in close to West, leaning on him for safety like I have since day one. Not because I need to but because I trust him to protect me.
He towers over my dad, whose face is in his hands, and points at my agent next. “The same goes for you. You see her walk past? I want you both to look the other way.”
I shouldn’t feel as satisfied as I do by this spectacle. But my dad is certainly having exactly the type of day he deserves. And I find myself loving West even more for this wild protective streak of his.
When he straightens, he tugs at his lapels to smooth his jacket and then takes my hand.
“Skylar, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
And we do.
I can’t take my eyes off him as he leads me out of that auditorium. The powerful way he carries himself takes my breath away. And the twitch of his lips has me tilting my head in with a whispered question. “What’s so funny?”
His eyes slice over to me and his fingers pulse around mine. “Three.”
“Three what?”
Now he grins.
“Noses.”
I bark out a laugh as we step into the sun. “It’s okay, I heard he knows a great surgeon.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
SKYLAR
I eyeup the Canadian Goose. Its black, beady eyes meet mine. I’ve been back in Rose Hill for several weeks and have been dying to get close to one.
“Skylar.” I can hear the warning tone in West’s voice and it just makes me smile. “That goose is not your friend.”
“Then why is he friend-shaped?”
West scoffs and the kids giggle. We came down to the lake for a picnic and I was immediately taken by the bird. His dinosaur-like feet. His long, graceful neck. I swiped a cracker from the old wicker picnic basket and approached him immediately.
“Skylar, I’m serious. I’m more scared of that goose than I am of a grizzly bear.”
