Follow Me Back (Fight for Me 2) - Page 3

Like there was a goddamned chance I could look another direction.

A mass of lush red waves rolled all the way down her back. Not the kind that came from a bottle. But the kind that told me there was a smattering of freckles across her milky skin. Skin I was instantly itching to know whether it felt as soft as it looked.

From my vantage, I could see her from the side. The warm, muted lights that poured over her from above illuminated her profile—button nose and pouty lips and dimpled chin.

A knockout.

Because God knew she’d knocked the breath out of me.

But where the rest of her party was having a blast, she was sitting on a stool like she’d rather be any place than there.

My eyes traced across the cream-colored blouse, the crisscross V-neck lined in a wave of ruffles, and down the black skirt I could only imagine hugged perfect hips. Her ankles were crossed, heels hooked in the rung of the high stool. The girl was sipping a glass of rosé like she was terrified the next sip might be the one that put a hole in her rigid armor.

If anyone needed to be shown a good time, it was her.

Nikki sidled up between Ollie and me. “Looks like we’re about to lose tonight’s guest of honor. Look at you, drooling all over that poor girl sitting over there minding her own business.”

Tsking, she shot me a teasing smile. She was always goading me about the girls I followed home, saying one of these days one of them was going to stick.

She didn’t need to know that was never going to happen.

I threw a hand over my heart. “Nikki Walters . . . do you think so little of me? I was doing nothing of the sort.”

“Right,” she drew out, shaking her head and smiling as she gave a little shove to my back. “Well, go on, what are you waiting for? You never know, that might be the girl of your dreams waiting over there for you.”

I cocked a grin. “You know me better than that. This guy is not looking for the girl of his dreams.” I slammed the rest of my drink and smacked my lips. “But I am most definitely looking for a good time.” One look at the girl sitting across the haze of the dingy bar? Bam. The whole idea of refraining for the night had been sacked.

Nikki gave a little mock scoff of disgust. “One of these days, you’re going to get tired of the games you play.”

She stole a glance at Ollie. Pain pierced her expression before she covered it with a bright smile. Poor girl’d been head over heels for Ollie for all the years I’d known her. Sure, she dated here and there, but it was clear she was waiting around for Ollie to come to his senses.

I knew Ollie well enough that I wanted to tell her to move on. Live her life. Find someone who would appreciate her for who she was—this loving, free spirit who had the world to offer and deserved it in return.

Dropping a big kiss to her temple, I hugged her to my side. “And sometimes the only thing we’ve got time for are the games.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Married to your work. I get it.”

Only she didn’t. Only Ollie and Rex knew. The two people in this world I trusted with my secrets and my life and my shame.

“Go on, then. We’ll just be over here polishing off this awesome bottle of tequila Ollie was so kind to share.” She dragged Ollie back by the wrist. “You know where to find us . . .”

“In about an hour, it’ll be with your head buried in a toilet.”

She pointed at me. “Oh, dude, I’ll drink your ass under the table any time. But not tonight. I’m on auntie duty in the morning.”

“You’re on. A hundred bucks.”

“Hell no . . . I win and you go on an actual date.”

I gasped. “The cruelty. And here I thought we were celebrating me?”

Her smile turned wry. “Oh, we are.”

The two of them turned back to the rest of our friends, who were laughing and chatting around the table, and I strode to the bar, got a refill of my whiskey, and asked for a glass of bubbly pink stuff.

When I turned around, I damned near stumbled again.

It was a flash.

The girl looking at me.

Eyes the greenest green.

A grassy plain.

Mossy, warm earth.

For a second, I lost my footing.

Lost ground.

Lost sanity.

Because just looking at her felt like something profound.

Before I could evaluate the feeling, I shook it off and twisted my mouth into the smile my ma said I’d always wielded like manipulation.

And I strode her way.

2

Hope

He caught me staring.

Crap.

He caught me staring.

I jerked forward, trying to hide myself in the fall of my hair.

Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance
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