“Nope. What do you want?”
“Something colorful, light on alcohol, but fun?”
“Fun is my specialty,” he winks, heading off towards the blender.
His back flexes and pulls as he works the bar, grabbing bottles and scooping ice. He reminds me of Walker in a lot of ways, but lacks that mystery that drives me insane.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” I mutter, turning in my seat only to bump into someone beside me.
Blond hair, emerald eyes, and teeth so perfectly straight they have to have been designed by a dentist smile back at me. “Well, hello,” he drawls. “Haven’t seen you before.”
“Not from here,” I confirm, swinging back around in my seat.
This man is off-the-presses hot, and if I were a gambling girl, I’d say he’s modeled before. The way he moves his long, lean body is something that’s taught, not something you’re born with.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.
“She ordered one.” Machlan sets a glass in front of me with more force than necessary. “What can I get you, Tommy?”
The man I now know as Tommy looks at me as he answers Machlan. “I think I’m good right now.”
“Make sure you’re still good the next time I check on ya,” Machlan says, a warning written in every syllable. “Feel me?”
I slide away from the two of them, some unspoken pissing match firing between them. Machlan’s hand hits the bar, making Tommy flinch.
“I, um, I think I need to find my friend,” I say, climbing off the stool.
“What’s she look like?”
“It’s fine,” I say, unable to shake the feeling from moments ago. “I’ll find her.”
“I just walked through. Maybe I know.”
His hand touches the small of my back as he follows me towards the area I last saw Peck. It’s too heavy for someone who just met me, too intimate for anyone who wasn’t invited.
“Really. I’m okay. I’ll find her,” I reiterate, increasing my speed in hopes he’ll drop his hand.
As I feel the coolness return to my back, my sight is drawn to the billiards area. Walker is standing, his arms over his chest, a look of death aimed at Tommy.
“Where are you, Delaney?” I mumble, sorting through the crowd. With each step I take, I feel Tommy take the same one, his voice behind me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the music.
I don’t find Delaney, but do spy the red sign for the restroom. Tommy’s hand again on my back, I spin around. “Gotta use the little girls’ room. Thanks for your help.”
Before he can say anything, I’m off through the doorway.
“WHY DO YOU LOOK like you’re two seconds from committing murder?” Peck’s question rings out from beside me.
“I’d say two seconds is a stretch. Probably more like six.”
My sight pinned on Tommy Jones, I follow that asshole through the crowd. He stops at various women, kissing their cheeks, grabbing a handful of ass, depending on what he can get away with.
“Where’s Sienna?” Peck asks.
“Bathroom.”
“She hasn’t met Tommy, has she?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, shit.”
I wonder, vaguely, how long you can have your blood pressure as high as mine without your heart exploding. From the moment he touched her—no, from the moment he sat down beside her—my veins have pulsed with a tempo that can’t be healthy.
I hate that motherfucker more than anyone on Earth. He’s a worthless, pussified cocksucker who tried once, only once, to pull his shit on my sister. He got some free dental work out of that encounter.
Sienna comes out of the restroom, her eyes darting around Crave. She’s tucking her hands into her pockets, not harboring that swagger of confidence that usually rolls off her. That alone pisses me off because I know it’s Tommy who took it. But when I see him head her way, my body vibrates in anticipation.
“Patience,” Peck warns. “You can’t just go over there balls to the wall.”
“I know.” And I fucking hate it.
Someone like her shouldn’t be in the same room with the rest of us. She’s a good chameleon, blending in with whatever environment she’s in, but I can tell she’s just that—a faker. She doesn’t hang out in shithole towns with shitty bars. You can see the little nuances if you watch for them, like the way she looks at what everyone’s drinking before she orders or how she’d have no idea what a place like this would even serve. It’s adorable, really, highly entertaining. And it leaves her vulnerable.
“I don’t think she likes him,” Peck notes as Tommy tries to step in front of her.
“Me either.”
She moves backwards, laughing, but the way her hands clench at her sides isn’t how she usually looks when she’s giggling. She’s not lifting her chin or cocking her head a touch to the left.
Tommy reaches for her arm, grabbing her just behind her elbow.
It’s one motion, one jerk of her arm away. It’s one moment of lip reading as she forms the word “Ouch,” that has me storming towards them.