The waitress was back with the menu, so I took it and turned my attention back to Blaire. “Pick something. No matter what Diva the Drunk says, you need to eat first.”
Blaire nodded agreeably. She didn’t like the idea of getting sick, either. At least she was cautious. I was thankful for that much. Bethy, not so much. I didn’t like her getting close to Bethy.
“The cheese fries look good,” Blaire said almost too quietly.
I wasn’t going to waste time. Bethy had left for drinks, and I wanted the food in Blaire fast. I motioned the waitress over. “Cheese fries, two orders, and a tall glass of water,” I told her.
She nodded and hurried off. I felt better knowing food was coming. And that I was going to watch her eat. It was screwed up that I wanted to watch, but the peanut-butter-sandwich thing was f**king with my head.
“So you’re at a honky-tonk. Was it everything you hoped it would be? Because I’ll be real honest, this music is painful,” I said, leaning back and looking at Blaire. I hadn’t really paid attention to the country music since we’d walked inside. I had been more concerned with getting Blaire food.
She shrugged and looked around us. “I just got here, and I haven’t drunk or danced yet, so I’ll let you know after that happens.”
She wanted to dance? Fantastic. “You want to dance?”
“Yes, I do. But I need a shot of courage first, and I need someone to ask me to dance,” she said.
“I thought I just asked,” I said. I wanted to be the one who held her during those slow country songs. Not some drunk cowboy.
Blaire leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, then propped her chin up on her hands before looking over at me. “You think that’s a good idea?”
I didn’t have to ask her why she would think it wasn’t. We both knew what happened when we touched or got too close. I lost control. She wanted a friend. Nothing more from me. She was smart. “Probably not,” I admitted.
She nodded.
The waitress slid the cheese fries in front of us, along with a mug of water that was nice and frosted. Blaire quickly reached for a fry and took a bite.
I couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s better than peanutbutter sandwiches, isn’t it?” I asked. She grinned and nodded, picking up another fry. I wasn’t going to be able to eat. She was too damn fascinating.
“I figured I should start you out easy,” Bethy said, sliding back into her side of the booth. “Tequila is a big-girl drink. You’re not ready for that yet. This is a lemon drop. It’s sweet and yummy.”
Shit. She was bringing her shots. What was wrong with beer? Girls always went for those sweet shots and ended up trashed so damn fast. “Eat a few more fries first,” I encouraged Blaire.
She didn’t argue with me. I watched her eat a couple more, and then she reached for the lemon drop. “OK, I’m ready,” she said, smiling at Bethy. They picked up their drinks together and put them to their lips. I watched as Blaire tipped her head back and drank the too-sweet liquid. She was going to like it. I didn’t know how I could handle a drunk Blaire.
“Eat,” I said when her eyes met mine over the glass.
She pressed her lips together, and then a giggle broke free. She was laughing at me now. One f**king drink, and she was giggling.
“I met some guys at the bar,” Bethy told her while eating her fries. “I pointed you out, and they’ve been watching us since I sat down. You ready to make a new friend?”
Oh, f**k no. I moved closer to Blaire, fighting the urge to hold her in her seat. She wanted to do this. We were here for her to have a good time.
Blaire nodded and glanced up at me.
“Let her out, Rush. You can keep the booth warm for us in case we come back,” Bethy said, sounding annoyed with me again.
I didn’t want to do this. She was safe here with me. If I could smell her sweet scent, then that douche watching her could, too. Fuck, I hated this.
Blaire’s eyes were hopeful, and I could see she was excited. I couldn’t keep her from this. She’d missed so much. Reluctantly, I slid out of the booth and let her out.
“Be careful. I’m here if you need me,” I whispered in her ear as she walked past me. She nodded and looked back at me like she might be changing her mind. I’d whisk her out of here so fast. All she had to do was say the word.
“Come on, Blaire. Time to use you to get us free drinks and men. You are the hottest sidekick I’ve ever had. This should be fun. Just don’t tell these guys you’re nineteen. Tell everyone you’re twenty-one,” Bethy said.
My hands clenched into fists as I sat back down in the now-empty booth.
“OK,” Blaire said.
I couldn’t watch her go over there. I wouldn’t be able to stay away.
I wouldn’t look. I wouldn’t look.
Ah, hell, I was gonna look. I had started to turn around when a blonde walked over to me and sat down on the table in front of me. “You so don’t fit in here,” she said, with a Southern drawl that was thicker than usual.
I glanced back at Blaire. She was smiling up at some guy with curls. Fuck. She was happy, though. He wasn’t touching her. She looked like she was enjoying herself. I had to let her do this. If I didn’t need to drive them home, I would get drunk. It would make this much easier to deal with.
“She yours?” the girl asked, sliding her leg over to dangle beside me.
I turned back to her. “No. She’s . . . we’re friends,” I explained.
The blonde leaned forward, presenting me with a view of her large and very bought-and-paid-for tits.
I was an equal-opportunity kind of guy, so I had no problem with that. Nice tits were nice tits. Hers were nice. I just wasn’t interested. I had Blaire to watch out for.
“She’s crazy to run off with someone like him when she has someone who looks like you sitting here waiting on her,” the girl said, moving her leg closer to me.
I looked back at Blaire, who was talking to the other guy now. Bethy was with the one with the curly hair. Blaire seemed fine. I had to stop watching her. “She’s, uh, never been to a bar before. She’s exploring things,” I said, turning my attention back to the blonde.
The blonde moved her leg up to set her heeled foot on the seat beside me. I glanced down to see a direct view up her skirt. Red panties. Nice.
I slid a finger down her thigh before moving her skirt over so she wasn’t flashing me right here where the whole damn bar could see . . . or where Blaire could see.
“Might want to close those,” I said, with a smile to ease the rejection.
She laughed and moved to stand up and slide in beside me. “Maybe if I sit here, then you can’t keep focusing on your friend, who seems to be enjoying herself just fine. And if I open my legs, no one but you and I can see,” she said, leaning toward me so her tits were on display again.
If I could actually get up the desire to play with those toys she was intent on flashing at me, then I might not be so wound up. But not being able to see Blaire was pissing me off. “Look, you’re hot. No doubt. But I’m here to keep my friend safe. It’s about her,” I explained, as my eyes found Blaire walking toward the dance floor with the guy she’d been talking to. His hand was on her back now. Not mine. Jealousy was painful, and I’d never experienced it before. But damn, when it takes hold of you, then you feel it. You f**king know what it is.
“See, she’s dancing. Not at all worried about you,” the blonde said, pressing closer to me and sliding her hand up my leg.
I reached down and grabbed it before she slid it over my cock. Even if I didn’t want to f**k her, my damn c**k would react to the attention and give her the wrong idea. I put her hand back in her own lap.
“She has you in all kinds of knots, doesn’t she? Damn.” The woman looked over at Blaire and shrugged. “Guess that young, fresh thing does it for men. It grows old, though. She won’t always be so sweet and new.”
She had this all wrong. Most women like her did. They didn’t understand that a man could want someone for more than just her looks. That it wasn’t always sex that drew them in. That sometimes it was more. More . . .
“I can make you forget she exists,” the blonde said, moving her mouth to mine.
“Whoa.” I grabbed her head to stop her. I didn’t kiss. Not mouths I knew had been on too many cocks to count. “Not going there, sugar. Sorry, but you’re right. She has me all kinds of wrapped up. She might not want me that way, but she has my complete attention. No one else is gonna compare.”
The woman stuck out her bottom lip in a pout that looked ridiculous, then ran her leg up my side. She wasn’t giving up easily. “One kiss. Just one really good kiss,” she said, leaning into me again.
I had to hold her body back forcefully this time. “I don’t kiss mouths that I know have sucked a c**k that isn’t mine,” I said bluntly, knowing it would stop her.
She froze, and her eyebrows shot up. “You mean you only do virgins?” she asked, incredulous.
I laughed and shook my head. “No. I mean I don’t kiss. I f**k, but I don’t kiss,” I clarified.
She leaned back and looked at me. “Really? And girls are OK with this?”
I had started to respond when I saw that Blaire’s date was alone on the dance floor. Fuck! Where was she? “Move,” I demanded, shoving the woman back so I could get out of the booth. “Now, dammit, move!” I yelled.
She scrambled backward, glaring at me, but I didn’t have time to explain. Blaire was gone, and I didn’t see her leave. I was supposed to be watching her. I sucked at this.
I had to find her. Her dance partner started for the door, but some woman walked up to him and distracted him. I’d deal with him later if I needed to. Right now, I was going to see if Blaire had gone outside.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My heart was pounding so hard that the relief when I saw her standing outside the bar, leaning against the building, made my knees weak. She was here. She was fine.
“Blaire?” I called out to her.
She had her arms crossed over her chest defensively. I wasn’t sure what had happened in there, but if the redneck wannabe cowboy had stepped out of line, I was going to rip his arms off.
“Yes,” she answered. There was a hesitation to her voice. Something was wrong. She didn’t sound like herself.
“I couldn’t find you. Why are you out here? This isn’t safe.”
“I’m fine. Go back inside and continue your make-out session in our booth.” She was jealous. Fuck. But I wanted her to be jealous. It made a warmth course through me that felt so wrong, but I couldn’t help it. I liked knowing she was jealous. Even though there was nothing for her to be jealous of.
“Why are you out here?” I asked, slowly taking another step toward her.
“Because I want to be,” she said, shooting an angry glare in my direction.
“The party is inside. Isn’t that what you wanted? A honkytonk with men and drinks? You’re missing it out here.” I was trying to lighten the mood. The look on her face said it wasn’t working. She was really pissed. All this because she thought I was making out with the blonde in the booth?
“Back off, Rush,” she snapped. Well shit, she was mad at me. I hadn’t done anything. She’d been the one dancing with the cowboy wannabe.
I took another step toward her. I couldn’t see her clearly enough in the darkness. “No. I want to know what happened.” She was upset, and I had a hard time believing it was all because of the blonde in the booth with me. There had to be something else.
Blaire put both of her hands on my chest and shoved me. “You want to know what happened? You happened, Rush. That’s what happened.” Her voice verged on a scream. She turned and starting walking away. What the hell?
I reached out and grabbed her before she could go too far. I wasn’t letting this one go. She was pissed, and it made no f**king sense. All this anger, even though she’d seen me with other women. She had been dancing with another guy just minutes before. Had it all changed for her, too? Was this not just all me now? Because if she wanted more, then I wasn’t going to be able to say no. I was past that. “What does that mean, Blaire?” I asked, pulling her back up against my chest.
She squirmed in my arms, making frustrated little growls. “Let. Me. Go,” she demanded.
Not a chance. “Not until you tell me what your problem is,” I said. She began to twist and fight against me harder, but I held on to her easily enough. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I needed to understand what was wrong. Either I’d pissed her off or that guy in the bar had.
“I don’t like seeing you touch other women. And when other men grope my ass, I hate it. I want it to be you touching me there. Wanting to touch me there. But you don’t, and I have to deal with it. Now, let me go!”