Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Maxine sounds high, drunk, probably both. Not that there’s anything wrong with other people’s choices.
It’s not my problem…until she comes over here and tries to make it my problem.
Turning, I study her and her date coldly.
Maxine’s eyes are hazy, wide but not in the way Lucy’s are – beautiful and a little innocent and maybe, hopefully in love – and she’s clawing onto her date’s arm hard. I recognize him as quarterback-slash-actor Damien Love.
He’s in his mid-twenties, holding himself cockily, and I can tell he’s been drinking too.
He runs a hand through his brown hair, grinning at me, then Lucy, then back at me.
“Logan Locke,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “I guess we’re both pretty starstruck right now, eh?”
Nope.
“Nice to meet you,” I say stiffly, praying they don’t try and take this somewhere ugly.
If either of them behaves cruelly toward my woman….
I can’t even think about it, knowing I wouldn’t be able to tolerate the disrespect, not to me…but to my woman.
Nothing they say could bother me because I simply don’t care what they think.
But if they try to upset Lucy in any way, I may not be able to control myself.
“And you,” Damien says, stepping forward with an air of overfamiliarity. He moves over to me, staring up. “And who’s the lovely lady?”
Touching Lucy’s hand, I take a step back, letting him know he doesn’t need to invade my personal space. I'll say something if he does it again, but he takes the hint.
He moves away and shrugs, still with that cocky grin on his face.
“This is Lucy,” I tell them. “My girlfriend.”
Damien looks at Maxine, and Maxine looks at Damien. I can tell they’re working up to something.
It causes a prickle to move over my spine, my body tightens as though getting ready for a fight, as though getting ready to put this bastard in his place.
I sensed it the moment they walked over. They’re looking for trouble.
Maxine laughs, turning to Lucy. “Did you win some sort of competition or something? Look at you. Deer in headlights much?”
I’m about to snap something when Lucy steps forward.
I can see the nerves in her, the tautness of her posture, and the way her hands worry at each other. But she doesn’t flinch as she stares at Maxine.
“I guess it must be hard for you to accept,” she says. “Logan chose me. Not you. It must be a pretty horrible feeling when all your self-worth is based on how you look.”
“Tsk. I’ve won an Oscar.”
“Yes, you have,” Lucy goes on, her voice steady, trembling only a little.
Pride whelms in me.
“But I like to think I can read people. At least a little. And it seems pretty clear to me you came over here to make me feel small just so you could feel big. But, because Logan rejected you and chose me, you can’t take it.”
Maxine throws her hands up, making a melodramatic huffing sound. I place my hand on Lucy’s shoulder to let her know I’m supporting her.
“I didn’t want to be mean,” Lucy says. “But that was a cruel thing, what you said.”
“Maybe I actually thought you’d won a competition. Did you think of that?”
“I could believe that, but then I’d also have to believe you didn’t see the photos from earlier today.”
Maxine flinches, shaking her head. “What are you, some wannabe fucking debater or something?”
Lucy sighs. “Is there anything else?”
Maxine spins to Damien. “Are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”
Damien’s mouth falls open. Some sobriety seems to flit into his eyes and leaves just as quickly.
He peels his upper lip back in a sneer and aims it at Lucy. “You really do look like you won a….”
Letting go of Lucy’s shoulder, I step forward.
Damien is a muscular, fit man. He’s shorter than me since he’s a quarterback, but he’s younger, and I’ve heard he knows how to fight. There was a rumor a year ago he was going to be involved in a celebrity boxing match.
He trails off as I tower over him, glaring.
“The thing is,” I say, looking at him steadily, “if you finish that sentence, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next. I won’t stand here and let you insult my woman, Damien. So make your fucking choice.”
There’s a moment where he still tries to seem like a tough guy, all pumped up, but then he returns my gaze. He's drunk, from the smell of it. His mask slips and I see the real him for a second.
He doesn’t want a fight, an argument, anything, not for Maxine.
And not just so he can hurt Lucy’s feelings.
“Maybe you were going to say you’re sorry,” I growl, my voice brimming with rage, the disbelief that this bastard would even think about insulting my woman.
“Uh.”
“Damien,” Maxine hisses.
He looks at her and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I really am.”