Page 46 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“What I want from you is to get the fuck out.”
“You know what, you’re something else.” I drive my fist into his shoulder, right where the dart had been. “Asshole.”
Outside the bathroom, I don’t get a chance to relish in his stunned expression, or the jolt of satisfaction I didn’t know I’d been craving.
Down the hallway, Vin leans against the wall, his arms crossed, watching me with a bemused smirk.
No. Just, no.
“Well, well,” he drawls, his tone teasing, “Look who’s sneaking out of the men’s bathroom like she just had a good fuck.”
For real?
And people wonder why I like to stay home.
“It’s a shame you didn’t wait for me.”
My body tightens, but I mask it with a scoff, shaking my head. He has no idea how wrong he is.
I try to move past him.
Vin pushes off the wall with a confident smirk and steps into my path, blocking my way out. His giant frame makes me feel smaller by the second, and not in the same way Hart did. I might loathe Hart, but he’d never corner me in this threatening way like he’s about to take me. No consent. No hesitation. Just take.
“Or, maybe I’m right on time?”
My patience is already fraying, but I try to remain calm. “Move out of my way.”
He steps further into my space, leaning in just enough that I can smell the bitter sting of beer and stale cigarettes on his breath. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be shy. I’m not gonna bite.”
I don’t take a step back. I refuse to let him see that his proximity makes my skin crawl.
Instead, I straighten, cross my arms, and stare him down. “Do you need help understanding what no means? Cause there’s a bar full of men who can catch you up.”
His bushy eyebrows dive into a deep V, leaning in a little more. “You’re tempting me by wearing this.” He flicks my sash, and for a split second, I want to blame my sister:I’m a Wild One.
But hell no.
He’s a grown man, and sash or not, that doesn’t give him the right to decide I’m his.
“So don’t act surprised when I get loud,” he rumbles.
I give him a look that could freeze fire, and then I sidestep him. But he’s quick, his bulk blocking me like a wall.
“You one of those ‘tough girls,’ huh? Always looking for a fight. Well, I’m game if you are.” He lets out a low, threatening laugh. “I like to play rough and wild.”
I exhale sharply, feeling the heat rising in my chest. “If you think I’m playing, you’re dead wrong.”
His smirk is sharper, colder. His gaze drops slightly as he steps even closer. Too close.
He slides a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I’m never wrong, sweetheart. And you’re playing all the right moves.”
I slap his hand away.
“I am not your property,” I spat. “And I am not playing games.”
“You sure about that?” His voice drops, silky and dangerous.
I step back, eyes narrowing. “Get out of my way. Trust me, you don’t want me to raise my voice.”
