Page 110 of Imogen

“Huh?” Mark grumbles, and begins to squint.

How either of them made it this far in life is beyond my knowledge.

“They read online that if you eat twelve grapes at midnight, you’ll find love in the new year,” Hayden interrupts as she lowers herself down in her partner’s lap.

“Really?” Mark asks.

“The bomb seemed more reasonable,” Reid mutters, but the others hear.

“We don’t joke about that in here,” Hayden snaps.

“Bombs?” Reid asks, a smug smirk on his face. “That is what bothers you out of the entire scenario?”

“How you lot haven’t killed each other is surprising,” I growl. “Mate, this place had a bomb go off in it whilst one of the parents were getting married. They nearly lost people.”

“All right. All right. But someone needs to tell them they need more than grapes to get a date with you lot as bodyguards.”

He gets up and leaves, and I see Clay’s fingers clench around Hayden’s waist to stop her from going after him. “I’m going to shove a cucumber up his arse.”

“He’ll probably like it,” Mark replies.

“I thought you were watching Zach tonight?” I point out.

Imogen went to the police and told them he was harassing her, but they couldn’t take a proper statement until after the new year. Instead of waiting for him to do something else, we’ve all been taking turns to watch him. She tries to act like it’s not bothering her, but I can tell it is.

“She’s good to enjoy her night,” he answers, and I narrow my gaze.

“Seriously? That’s your response after the shit he’s pulled? He might have been quiet for a—”

“Jesus Christ, we slipped him a few sleeping pills. The last I checked, his friends were dragging his unconscious arse into a taxi,” he remarks. “Now get offmyarse. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

“And you couldn’t have stated that from the beginning?”

He flashes his teeth with a smile. “Where would the fun in that be?” He claps me on my shoulder and leans in close. “Her dad and colleagues might be clueless, but we aren’t. Hurt her and it won’t be your car or bike I set on fire. It will be you.”

He stands and dances his way to the dance floor. Hayden bites into the cherry she pulls from her glass, arching an eyebrow. “You going to threaten me too?”

She points to her chest and swallows. “Oh no, I’m not going to threaten you.”

Even her bloke looks away, clearly not believing her. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I don’t make threats. I just do it.”

God, I’ve never met a group of people more infuriating than the Carters. I would think they were dropped a lot as kids, but their parents aren’t much better. Hayden’s dad right now is in the middle of the dance floor, his shirt over his head, dancing like he wants to take people out. Which he will do if he keeps pumping his hands out.

“Duly noted,” I mutter as I get up. “Oh, and your dad hid a cake in the office.”

“Prick,” she hisses, but Clay pulls her back down on his lap.

“It’s nearly midnight, baby,” he soothes.

Meeting Imogen’s gaze in the crowd, I gesture for her to meet me near the column.

“One minute until midnight,” the DJ announces.

I tag Imogen’s hand and pull her behind the column, away from prying eyes. “Have I told you how incredible you look tonight?”

Her ruby red lips pucker as she tilts her head to the side. “Yes, but you can tell me again.”

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