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“No.” I try to escape his grip but it’s like a vise. “Get your hands off me.”

“Not until you swear you’ll give him a BJ. Come on. Not like you haven’t given it up practically to the entire team.” His voice is firm as he steps closer to me. “Say it, Fable. Say you’ll do it.”

My knee twitches. I want to slam in the balls with it. I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this. Looking at me like he wants to—ick, I don’t know. Tear me apart. What a pervert.

“Ty, let her go,” Logan says, his voice timid.

“Shut up.” Ty never looks away from me and he pulls me even closer, though my feet drag, making me stumble. I so don’t want to be close to this guy. He gives me the creeps. “Stop pretending you’re a good little girl, Fable. You know all about getting on your knees and sucking cock, am I right?”

His words offend the hell out of me and I part my lips, ready to read him the riot act when all of a sudden, all the hairs on my body are standing on end. I’m hyperaware someone is behind me. I can feel his warmth, his strength. Smell him. Clean and fresh and so deliciously….Drew.

“Let her go, Ty, before I break every f**king bone in your body.” His voice is low, menacing. I wouldn’t f**k with him if he sounded like that to me. Anger makes his deep voice vibrate and a shiver slithers down my spine. “Show the lady some respect.”

Ty releases me with a little shove. Shaking his head, he laughs, though he doesn’t sound amused. Pissed is more like it. “Like this whore is a lady. And since when the hell do you care about chicks, Callahan? I always wondered if you preferred dick.”

“Don’t be an ass**le,” Logan starts and Ty glares at him.

I inhale on a sharp breath, my entire body tingling when Drew settles his hand low on my back so he can guide me out of his way.

And lunges straight toward Ty.

“Drew, no!” I shout as I leap back from the fray. One second everyone is having a good time, the next there’s a damn riot.

All the guys run toward Drew and Ty, who are struggling to get that first punch in. I grab hold of a belt loop on Drew’s jeans and tug, screaming at him to stop, and finally he glances up, his beautiful—and wild—blue eyes meeting mine.

“Stop,” I repeat, desperate to keep my voice calm. “Please. Before you get in trouble.”

He pushes Ty away from him and stands, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze locks on me, anger radiating from him in tangible waves, and I swallow hard, trying my best to keep my composure.

But damn, Drew Callahan is hot when he’s mad.

“He called you a whore,” he mutters, the fury in his eyes igniting to full-on flame. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry.

“Lots of guys call me a whore,” I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. It’s true and I hate it, but I’ve made my own whorish bed and on occasion, I have to lie in it.

“I won’t f**king stand for it, Fable.” Hearing him say my name sends pleasure washing through me, leaving me weak-kneed. I’ve missed him so bad and to have him here, standing in front of me, despite the crappy circumstances, fills me with so much happiness tears threaten to spring.

I blink them back, feeling infinitely stupid.

“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.” Funny that’s the second reference tonight to noble knights. And I’m lying. I do need someone to come and rescue me. I still want it to be him.

Drew.

“Right. Of course you don’t. You’re stronger than the rest of us, right? Sure as hell stronger than me.” He turns away and leaves me without another word. I stare, gaping at his retreating back, wondering what the hell spurred that comment on. What did I do to deserve his anger? Isn’t he the one who ditched me?

I refuse to feel guilty. I refuse to chase after him and ask him why. Ask him if he’s okay. Ask him if he’s still talking to that horrendous bitch who f**ked up his head so thoroughly.

Furious, I grab my empty tray and gather beer bottles, stacking them onto the tray until they’re rolling back and forth, clanking against one another. Jen finally enters the room, oblivious to the ruckus that just played out only minutes earlier, and I smile in relief when she approaches.

“Why is it so quiet in here?” she asks.

“A couple of them almost got into a fight.” I decided not to mention the fight was about me.

Jen rolls her eyes and starts to help me clear the tables. “Figures. Get a bunch of testosterone-laden men in close proximity and watch them beat their chests until they prove who’s the mightiest of them all.”

I don’t answer, continue to clean up and then stalk out of the room toward the bar, where I dump everything in the trash, the bottles again clanking together so loudly the sound satisfies me immensely. Irritation makes me want growl at anyone who so much as looks in my direction.

Shit. I’m dying for a smoke.

“What’s your problem?” T appears out of nowhere, startling me.

“Uh…” I don’t know what to say. Don’t want to bitch for fear of looking like I can’t handle my job. Don’t want to tell her what happened either since she might ask me why they were fighting and how I became involved.

So instead, I shrug. “Men suck.”

Well. That’s close enough to the truth.

Her expression changes to pure sympathy. “Yeah, they do. Listen. Go cool off for a few. You look ready to blow a gasket.”

“But I just took a break—”


Tags: Monica Murphy One Week Girlfriend Young Adult