Just that small bit of pain I feel from seeing someone else touch him… That’s enough to remind me what it’s like to be crushed by him.
“Let’s dance,” Ruby says as I toss my phone back in my purse.
“I can’t. I need to get out of here,” I tell her, trying not to cry in the middle of the club.
She frowns, but she nods in understanding. Then her eyes widen and move over my shoulder, which has a knot tightening in my stomach.
Damn it.
“So you’re going to text me instead of just coming to talk to me?” he says dangerously close to my ear as his arms slide around my waist and tug me until my back is flush against his front.
“Jax!” Maverick calls as he sifts through the crowd with a girl perched on his arm.
I’m not sure what Jax does, because he’s behind me, but Maverick grins and keeps walking. Jax starts moving my body to the music, still holding onto me. I’m too stunned to move.
Viv sold me out.
“Well?” he asks, moving my hair to the side and letting his breath whisper across my skin, an act that makes standing a little more difficult. But he holds me up.
“Looked like you were busy,” I tell him, having to speak louder than him, since I’m not right next to his ear and the music is booming. That bitter taste creeps back into my mouth, and I start drinking my almost forgotten drink.
His hands grip my sides tighter, and he nips my neck with his teeth. I’m glad he’s holding me up, because my knees try to give out.
Ruby freaking abandons me after standing there awkwardly for several minutes, and Jax’s grip doesn’t ease.
“So you got jealous and decided to just end our new friendship?” he asks, sounding more amused than anything, which I really don’t appreciat
e.
“We’re not friends, so let’s stop pretending we are,” I tell him, even though it’s painful to say it.
The pain is a brutal reminder of why I can’t dive right back into the pool of misery.
“Fuck this,” he says before spinning me around and crushing his lips to mine.
I jerk back instead of letting the sizzle of the connection meld me to him, and I glare at him.
He still looks amused. Bastard.
“You had no problem texting me while she was pressed up against you.” Do I sound like a whiny teen girl? Don’t care.
“Oh? Didn’t know I had to have a problem, friend. But in case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t even the slightest bit interested.”
I sound like a lunatic, because I’m telling my ex I’m pissed at him for texting me while another girl pawed at him, after telling him I can’t be with him as a friend. I’ve officially stepped over the acceptable line of crazy.
“I have to get out of here,” I mumble, knowing he can’t hear that.
After abandoning what’s left of my drink on a nearby table, I start pushing through the crowd, hoping against all odds that he doesn’t follow me.
Just as I reach the outside, all hopes are doused, because one arm comes around my waist, lifting me off the ground, and hauling me against his side.
“You’ve been drinking,” he says, acting as though that gives him a reason to manhandle me.
“So what?” I growl, struggling in vain because his one arm is stronger than my entire body.
His muscles are not that big, but apparently they hold a lot of power. Unyielding asshole.
“Friends don’t let friends drive drunk,” he quips, sounding overly chipper as he continues to carry me.