Page 28 of Never Date A Player
My arms shake from shock and the fatigue of prying his fingers off me. I angle my neck—the only part of my body I can move—to the person that caught the room’s attention.
Lewis’s eyes snare mine, flickering to Drake’s arm tight around my waist. A muscle in his jaw flexes and he glares at Drake. “What’s going on?”
“You’re early,” Drake replies pleasantly, releasing me. A whoosh of air escapes my chest, loosening but not easing the strain that built.
I jerk to the side and step away.
“You have the bid?” Drake asks innocently.
Lewis is gripping his clipboard, staring at me in an intense, worried way. His gaze cuts from me long enough for him to pass Drake a yellow sheet.
I grab my tray that at some point slipped to the ground and walk to the end of the table. Two men mumble drink orders as I pass and I take them down, my brain on autopilot. I make it out of the suite without remembering how I got there.
My palms flatten on the wall several feet away, forehead tipping to the surface. I clench my eyes closed. My hands curl into fists and my legs shake as humiliation and anger fill me.
I punch the wall with the side of my fist, rolling my forehead. Why does this always happen to me? I hate it, hate it.
A warm pressure settles on my arm. It’s gentle, but I flinch. At this point, my mother’s touch would startle me.
I know it’s him before I open my eyes, so I don’t bother. I turn and lean against his chest, covering my face with my hands. Guttural whimpers erupt from my throat, the smooth stroke of his hand on my spine highlighting my body’s shaking.
“What happened in there, Gen?” His velvety voice lures me from the dark, ashamed place inside my head.
There’s no way I’m telling him exactly what happened. I don’t want to think about it, let alone relive it. “You saw what happened.”
He lets out a slow breath as if he’s trying to remain calm. “You have to tell someone.”
Tell someone? Is he kidding? He knows—knows the gist anyway—and that’s bad enough. Lewis is everywhere, witnessing all my humiliations. I look weak in front of him, never how I want to appear. What Drake did to me, my inability to stop it… Does Lewis think I bring it on myself, the way Cali does?
“Gen?”
“No,” I croak.
His hand spreads on my back. “Then I’ll tell management what I saw. They need to know what happened, or you should quit your job.” His voice is firm.
“No. Don’t.” I pull away, pressing my fists to my eyes. They come away moist, but no tears fall. I won’t let them.
I make the mistake of looking up. Lewis’s gaze sucks whatever air I managed to regain. His features—intense, addictive—set off a riot of new emotions. Need, want. But not sexual this time. I want him to hold and comfort me, and that’s even scarier.
I step away, one foot, then the other.
“Gen.” Lewis’s voice pleads, his eyes darting to my quivering mouth, the balled fists at my sides. He doesn’t come closer. He holds himself back.
I don’t blame him. He should stay away.
I turn and run toward the stairs.
Chapter Eight
Lewis doesn’t follow me and I don’t expect him to. Not after what he saw and what he must think of me. I stop in the basement and splash water on my face, waiting for my body to cease shaking. I’ve been touched in ways that made me uncomfortable by my mom’s exes—or whatever you want to call them—and have fought off my share of handsy guys. This was different.
I want to pretend like it never happened, but a small voice in the back of my mind whispers like I did with Cali’s ex, Eric. And look how great that turned out.
Despite taking too long to return to my station, I grab my phone from my locker and make a detour on my way to the lounge. Mason is chatting with another bartender at the East Bar, his back turned. “Mason,” I say, my voice sharp. He jerks around. “You have a minute?” The other bartender immediately busies himself at the opposite end of the counter.
Screw the awkward tension between us. I refuse to take more money from my mother, and if I’m not quitting and running from Drake or any other man who thinks he can touch me without permission, I need to know what I’m up against before I go to management. What happened with Drake can’t happen again. It can’t.
My chest rises on a calming inhale. “What’s going on with Drake Peterson?”
