Page 51 of Double or Nothing

What the hell is this? What happened to the guy I knew? The one who hated parties and crowds. The guy who preferred to spend quiet nights at home with me on the couch, watching movies with my mother. How did he turn into this?

I make my way through the room, asking, “Where’s Sutton?” to every person I encounter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the two women Sutton was with earlier and brace to see him with them, but he isn’t. In fact, there’s no sign of him anywhere.

Needing to catch my breath, I step onto the balcony.

“There she is,” a voice says. “I knew you would be back for more.”

When I turn, I see the guy who grabbed my ass when I asked if he knew where Sutton was.

“Like hell, I am.”

Whoever the guy was talking to slaps him upside his head. My eyes adjust to the dim lighting and see Sutton.

“Sorry, he’s an asshole,” Sutton steps out from the shadows.

“A handsy asshole.”

Sutton’s eyes darken as his body tenses. “What’d you do?”

“Temper, temper, Mr. Cole.” The sound of my voice seems to pull him away from his nearing tirade. He stares at me for a beat before turning back to the guy.

“Hands off. Understood?”

The guy nods, refusing to make eye contact with Sutton.

“Give us a minute, will you?”

“Sure thing, Sut.”

A moment later, the ass grabber is gone, and Sutton and I are alone.

“Kat?” I hear his voice, but I’m afraid to look in its direction. Diverting my eyes from the ground where they dropped the moment we were alone, I return them to him. “Yeah?”

“You okay? Are you sure he didn’t…?”

“He grabbed my ass and immediately let go when I told him to. No big deal.”

“If he upset you, it’s a big deal to me.”

“What about you upsetting me? Is that a big deal? Because you being back here…” I shake my head, my emotions threatening to explode.

“It’s not easy for me to be back here,” he says as if he can read my mind. “And not because of my dad. Though, that wasn’t exactly fun either.”

“You saw your dad?” I ask, shock and concern filling my voice.

“Yesterday.”

His out-of-control drunken behavior yesterday certainly makes more sense now.

“Sorry about that, by the way.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I was out of line.”

“You can say that again.”

“I’m sorry. Seeing him, anyone, with their hands on you just puts me in a rage.”

I know the feeling all too well. I felt the same thing the moment I saw him with the blonde the other night.

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