Page 22 of Connectio
“I’m dancing with…” She leans into him. “What’s your name, sausage?”
“Marco.”
“Marco. I’m dancing with Marco.” Carly shrugs off my grip. “Want to join in?”
“No, you stupid cow, I don’t. And I don’t think Derek would want you joining in either.”
Sleazeball stops dancing. “You’re not single?”
“No, she’s not. Now bugger off.”
He walks away.
“Lib, you just scared him off.” She pouts. “I wanted to see the sausage’s sausage.”
Making claws with my hands, they tremble as I refrain from placing them around her neck and strangling her. “What’s wrong with you? What about Derek?”
“What about Derek?” she barks. “He’s in Sydney, and whatever it is he’s doing there, he obviously doesn’t want me to know.”
Before I can tell her she’s an infuriating fucko—something I’ve never told her before—Will steps between us and hands Carly his phone.
“You may want to take this.”
She squints at it. “It’s not my phone. My phone is here.” Carly reaches into her bra and pulls it out. Her eyes shoot to Will’s phone. “Is that him?” she mouths, swaying just slightly.
Sporting a shit-eating grin, he nods slowly.
She groans, grabs his phone, and turns her back to us before nonchalantly answering, “What’s up?”
“I could kill her,” I say, dancing a little, because everyone else around me is and I don’t want to look out of place.
Will dances too, and I’m not stupid enough to deny he has rhythm.
He leans forward. “Derek is pissed.”
I nod. “I don’t blame him.”
“I’d be pissed too.”
I smile, not knowing what to say to that. I guess it’s fair enough.
He steps closer. “Carly says you don’t have a man.”
I stop dancing. “That’s none of your or Carly’s business.”
Smiling like I really am a tasty piece of meat he wants to devour, he bends down, wraps his arms around my arse, and lifts me up. “Well, Elizabeth, as of this moment, I’m makin’ it my business.”
