Page 13 of Rebel Revenge

He chuckled and motioned for the bartender to pour him a drink. Whiskey on the rocks. Of course. How typical. Too macho for something with fruit, I was sure.

I jerked my stool away again, a whole lot less subtly than the first time I’d done it.

Suddenly I was sliding back to where I’d started, moved along by his hand on my seat, dragging it back toward him.

“Where you going, Roach?”

I gaped at him, flabbergasted by his confidence, then shook my head. “I’m too old for this shit.”

“What?” he asked innocently, like he didn’t still have his hand resting on the back of my chair.

I pointedly stared at it, and when he didn’t move, I helpfully lifted it with two fingers, like it was dirty and I didn’t want to touch it. “Keep those on your own chair. And call me roach again. I dare you.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Would you prefer cock…cock-roach…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I think cock is already taken by you, cock…cock-face. If you don’t mind, I liked my chair better over here.” I jerked it back to where it had been.

Fuck me. I hated men. Especially the attractive ones who thought schoolyard taunts were conversation.

I looked at my phone. Ten past eight. I’d been late for our seven-thirty meal, but Mom was now forty minutes late. That warranted a text message. I pulled my phone out of my purse.

Rebel

Hey. Where are you guys? I’m waiting at the bar. Getting hit on by some moron. SOS.

My phone rang a moment later, Mom’s name flashing up on the screen. I snatched it up quickly when the cock on the seat beside me darted a peek at it. “Do you mind?” I snapped at him, hitting the green button. “Where are you guys?”

There was a muffled laugh from the other end before Mom’s voice came through again. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. We completely lost track of time.”

I looked at the ceiling in exasperation. Of course she did. Because she was flaky and immature as ever and had probably expected me to call to remind her about a dinner she’d invited me to. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. “Okay, well, are you coming now?”

She giggled down the line. “Uh, about that. Bart took a Viagra because I wanted to try this whole tantric sex thing, and now we kinda just gotta ride it out.” She laughed hysterically. “Ride it out! I sure am!”

I screwed up my face in revulsion. “Ugh, Mom. Too much information. You just crossed a hard line.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I know. I swear, Belly, we didn’t mean for this to happen. I thought it would have gone down hours ago. I can’t just leave him like this. I’ve been trying everything I can think of to get it to…you know.”

I pinched the space between my eyebrows, trying hard not to imagine what they were doing in that very moment to get Bart’s little problem under control. “Okay, okay. Never mind! You do what you gotta do. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“You will! Because I’m getting married!”

I smiled, never able to stay mad at her for long because she was like an impulsive child. Of course she managed to give her fiancé a never-ending stiffy just hours before their wedding. I didn’t even know why I was surprised. “Go enjoy yourselves. See you tomorrow.”

“Wait! Wait! Belly, I forgot to tell you something. There’s a surprise for you at the restaurant.”

Unless it was a credit card to pay my drink bill, I wasn’t sure I really needed a surprise right now. Especially because I was pretty sure Cockface next to me was listening to every word. I turned around, and sure enough, he was watching me.

I glared at him.

He smirked back.

Ugh. Exactly why I hated attractive men. The ability to smirk should be removed from their repertoire. “What is it?” I asked Mom. “Is it with the hostess?”

She laughed. “No, no. It’s not gift wrapped. Bart’s son is there, and he’s so cute, Bel! You two would be the most adorable couple.”

I blinked at the cock next to me in horror. “No.”

“Yes! Bart said he’d be wearing a suit, and he has glasses. A little dorky, but in a cute kind of way…”

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