Page 35 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
I don’t know how to express my gratitude without coming off as a pussy, so I just leave it at that. Enzo will get it. I toss my phone facedown on the table with a huff.
Jett sees the look on my face and asks, “What? Mom?”
I nod stiffly but say, “It’s already handled.”
I’m not in the mood to hold hands and braid each other’s hair while getting into deep philosophical topics with my brother.
Across the room, a guy from the main bar rudely walks into our private room, wandering over to our table. He’s got that sleazy confidence that comes from too much to drink and not enough sense.
I push up from the table, about to tell the guy to leave. He zeroes in on the girls like a homing beacon, heading straight to them.
“This is a private room,” I growl. The dude doesn’t even seem to notice me, which is weird because I’m six and a half feet of pure threat. I snarl, but he’s already talking to Ivy.
“Hey there, beautiful. I saw you from the main bar. Can I buy you a drink?”
Ivy smiles sweetly, standing up. “I would love that. Lead the way.”
She follows the stranger to the bar. I watch her go, fuming, and I see that Jett’s jaw tightens.
“What the hell?” he mutters.
“What’s your problem?” Shane asks. “She’s single.”
“It’s about team loyalty,” Jett grumbles, which makes no sense since Ivy doesn’t owe any of us anything.
“Uh-uh,” I intone. “I don’t like people just invading our space. It’s supposed to be a private room.”
Jett shoots me the dirtiest look and says, “That’s, uh, my objection too. I’m with you.”
I cock an eyebrow at him but he ignores me. Is heblushing?
When Juliet comes back, she slides in next to me, sitting closer than before. I forget all about my anger. I keep looking at her legs, specifically her thighs, thinking that anybody could reach up her skirt if they wanted to. Not that I want to, but I can imagine how some asshole might try it. She catches me looking and pulls her skirt down.
“Eyes up here, Chainsaw,” she whispers.
I clear my throat and push my beer away. I definitely don’t need to be less inhibited around her. Already, I’m thinking about whether she would taste as sweet as she smells.
“Oh my God, Hunter, you should have seen this guy at practice today,” Shane says, elbowing Connor in the ribs. He launching into a story about rookies and equipment malfunctions.
Juliet throws her head back, laughing. “Are you serious? He actually did that?”
“Swear to God. Ask anyone.”
She leans in close to Shane, touches his arm. “You guys are insane.”
It burns in my chest. I don’t understand why it bothers me. She’s playing a part, the same as me. Still, something tight wraps around my ribs.
She must sense my mood because she puts her hand on mine where everyone can see and scoots closer, pressing her thigh against mine. I glare down at her hand. It’s too small and delicate. A big guy like me could crush someone like Juliet without even trying.
Thorne, who’s been sitting on the very edge of the group like he’s not sure he wants to be here, suddenly stands up.
“I’m out,” he says.
“Already?” Connor asks. “It’s barely ten.”
“Dawn practice tomorrow.” Thorne rolls down his sleeves, covering the ink that covers both arms. He puts even tattooed me to shame. Tattoos cover forty percent of his body.
The second he steps outside the private room, he’s surrounded by puck bunnies who’ve been waiting for their chance.
