Page 40 of Average Joe

Sidling up to me, Lilly looped her arm through mine and asked, “You know this guy?”

“Lilly, this is my neighbor, Joe.”

“Ohhh…” Her voice trailed off, her head bobbing as she connected the dots. “Nice to meet you.” She offered a hand.

Joe appeased her with a quick shake and a tight smile. “Lilly. You mind giving us a minute?”

Her grip tightened, a show of support. “Nah, I’m good. I’d like to know what you’re doing back here, too.”

God bless her.

“Fine.” Joe inched backward, giving us space. “I saw you stumbling away from your table and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I knew it.” I poked a finger in his chest. “Itwasyou bumping and grinding against me out there.”

“You were showing the whole club your goods. Men were leering. I couldn’t let—”

“Showing my goods?” I shrieked, my buzz wearing off.

He gestured to my chest, then my thighs, quirking his brows.

Yes, my dress was short. Yes, the neckline plunged halfway down my abdomen, but the clingy skirt had a little boom-chicka frill at the hem, covering all the scandalous parts. I was certainly not showing any more flesh than any other lady at the club. Seriously. In Vegas, my getup would be considered prudish. And yes, he’d been right; we ladies used magic tape to hold our garments in place. Mine, apparently, had failed. Good thing I had an extra strip in my handbag. But that was beside the point. The point was… “So what? You were protecting me from all the big, bad men?”

“No, goddamnit.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… Well, yeah. Shit.” He dropped his arm and hit me with a direct glare. “I couldn’t stand by and watch while other men touched you.”

His epic confession knocked me back a step.

My traitorous heart stretched her wings.

Joe didn’t want other men touching me. Well, damn me to hell, I didn’t want other men touching me either. What a stupid, dangerous revelation.

My best defense against the rising feels? Bitch mode. “Seriously, Joe. We fucked. Okay. That doesn’t make you my boyfriend or my guardian.” I pushed from the wall and grabbed Lilly’s hand. “You don’t get to lay claim. And you do not get to corner me in a dark hallway and tell me to cover myself.”

Lilly snorted, clearly entertained, but then, as if sobering, she stepped between Joe and me, hands to hips, and asked, “This is a private hallway. How did you get back here, anyway?”

“He’s a criminal, Lilly.” The words shot from my lips, nasty, spiteful, and self-preserving. I cringed at my cruel outburst, the regret white-hot and immediate. My ugly had spilled, and there was no mop in reach.

“Again with that shit?” Joe took one heavy step back, then another. His chin dropped and his heated stare fell from my face, aimed at the floor.

Soured liquor swirled in my stomach. “Joe, I’m—”

“Save it.” The venom in his voice paled in comparison to the disgust on his face. “Why the fuck am I wasting my time? I’ve never met such a bitter, judgmental woman in my life.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Lilly came to my defense, but she was too late.

Joe was gone, disappeared down the dark hall.

* * *

Bang. Bang. Bang.

My antique mirror rattled under the excessive force of the knock.

Unexpected visitors were the worst. I considered my state of undress and sunk deeper into the couch cushion.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

A quick stretch to my left, a tug, and I turned off the table lamp.

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