“Is that Carly?”
“Chance, leave us the fuck alone,” Austin says.
Oh God, it’s Chance Bridger. I fumble with my jeans, working the zipper back up.
“I told you to leave her the fuck alone,” Chance snarls.
They talked about me?
“I’m a grown man and you will not tell me what to do. Do not shame Carly like this.”
“Shame her? I’m not the one who had his tongue down her throat and his hand in her pants.”
I move to step around Austin, to tell Chance I’m the one who kissed Austin, that I wanted what he was doing.
For the first time in over five years, a man touched me because I wanted it. He was giving me pleasure. I’m not ashamed by my actions with Austin. Only by Chance calling us out as if I’m a teenage girl who doesn’t know her own mind.
Austin is right. I do feel shame.
Before I can say anything, my body still humming with awakened need, Chance’s arm rockets out and punches Austin in the face.