Page 68 of Wingwoman
To choose me.
Please choose me, Hope.
But she was an adult and if she wanted to stay, I couldn’t and shouldn’t stop her. This was her choice to make. “Come on,” I said gently. “Let’s go home. I know a certain adorable shepherd that can’t wait to be the little spoon with you again.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, taking a step forward. “You’re right. We should go home.”
Home. My heart skipped a beat at that word.
Yet again, fucking handsy Drake held on, tugging her back against his chest. “Baby, you’re not really leaving, are you?”
She pushed his hands off of her hips, but he used the opportunity to link their fingers, drawing her hand to his mouth and sucking one of her fingertips between his lips.
I inhaled sharply at the sight, waiting to see whatshewanted.
If she wanted Drake, I would leave them to it. Mend my broken heart with some Glenlivet at home.
But instead, Hope yanked her hand back, then slapped Drake.
Undeterred, a smile spread along his face. “Oh, I like them feisty,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought we had something here. Are you really saying you don’t want to at least take my number?”
“She’s made it very clear she isn’t interested,” I snapped.
“Is that true, pumpkin?” Drake asked.
Hope sneered at him. “Pumpkin? Darlin’? Is that what you call all the girls whose names you can’t remember?”
He grew serious. “No,Hope. That’s what I call you because you said pumpkin pie was your favorite.”
Dammit. Point for Drake.
Hope’s expression softened, but she still took a step back toward me, not quite taking my hand, but clearly making her choice to leave. “Sorry, I was just looking to let loose and have some fun tonight. I’m not actually looking for anything more.”
Behind me, Matt joined us, leaning into my ear. “Dude, we need to get out of here. Women in the audience are recognizing you.”
“Let’s go,” Hope said, turning to leave.
But fucking Drake,againgrabbed her other hand and pulled her into him, kissing her.
It only took fractions of a second to hear Hope’s squeal. See the way she pushed at his shoulders, trying to shove him off of her.
I saw red.
The kiss itself only lasted three seconds.
And as Hope shoved him off of her, stumbling back into Matt, I lunged at Drake, my fist flying through the air and hitting his jaw with a deafening crack.
His kiss may have only lasted three seconds…
But my punch would last for weeks.
For both of us.
Twenty
HOPE
I wokeup the next morning back in Josh’s guest room.
