From across the bar, I watch her press against Tristan, and I realize that she clearly hasn't given up on that idea.
He looks at me again, still pleading. When he mouths 'help me,' I roll my eyes and throw my hands up in defeat.
I don't know if it's because I feel grateful for how he protected Hailey or if I just hate the sight of Sabrina hanging all over him, but I decide to play along.
I saunter up to Tristan. Ignoring Sabrina completely, I straddle Tristan's hips and wrap my arms around his neck.
"Baby," I pout dramatically. "I thought we were leaving."
Tristan's expression is equal parts shock and amusement, but he contains himself enough not to let it show. He slides his hands over my hips and pulls me a little closer, forcing me to arch my back. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
"I'm sorry,baby," he responds, and I can hear the sarcasm in the endearment. He knows I'm the last girl to ever call a guy baby. "You're right, I promised I'd take you home."
I smile seductively and lean forward, brushing my lips against his cheek. "Good, because there's something I want to try tonight," I purr, just loud enough for Sabrina to hear. I hear Tristan's sharp intake of air and feel his grip tighten on my hips. I smirk and lightly nip his earlobe before pulling away.
His eyes still sparkle with delight but now there's an intense fire smoldering behind them, as well. His stare tries to burn through my charade to see what's behind it, and for a moment I forget that I'm faking it all. I get lost in his gaze. For a few seconds, it feels like we're the only two people in the entire bar.
"Umm, who the fuck are you?" I hear from beside me. I turn startled eyes to a very angry looking Sabrina. Her arms are crossed and she's willing me to drop dead with her eyes.
"Oh. Hi. I'm Remy," I offer sweetly. "His girlfriend."
Her eyes narrow and I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. "He's never mentioned you," she says tightly.
I shrug and turn back to Tristan with a sexy smile. "It's a new thing. But when it's this good…" I purr softly as I shift closer to him, "...you forget about everyone else."
As I watch, the fire in his eyes becomes a blazing inferno.
"Listen, slut—" Sabrina starts. But without waiting for the rest of her threat, I unwind myself from Tristan and step back. I grab his hand and tug gently.
"Come on, baby, let's get out of here," I whine. "The vibe in here is way too plastic." Tristan is one joke away from outright laughing at my poorly concealed insults, but he stands anyway.
Sabrina, on the other hand, reaches a whole new level of infuriated when I cut her off. She rips our hands apart and steps between Tristan and I, putting herself right in my face.
"You have no idea who you're dealing with," she snarls. "He would never pick an ugly dyke like you over someone like me. Just stop embarrassing yourself and go home."
Over her shoulder I see Tristan's nostrils flare with anger. He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him with a slight shake of my head.
A crazy smile stretches across my face—as if I'm happy for the confrontation. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with," I tell her. "You're hardly the first attention whore that's tried to attach herself to his career. And trust me, honey, you're going to need more than fake words and a plastic rack to keep his attention." I hear snickering from around us. Shocker—our cat fight has drawn some attention. "I would recommend trying for one of the idiot narcissists in the amateur circuit. They're probably the only ones your act can fool."
Sabrina's eyes flare with anger and she opens her mouth to snap back at me. But once again I cut her off. "Stay the fuck away from Tristan," I snarl. "I don't want to see your desperate ass stalking him ever again. And if I do, or if you ever lay a hand on me again…" I step close enough to her that our noses almost touch. I don't even care that she's a few inches taller than me—I know how to straighten my shoulders to make myself seem dominant, even from below. Her eyes widen in fear. "…I will fuck you up so bad that you'll never be pretty enough for anyone, ever again."
I hold her terrified gaze, waiting patiently for her to look away first.
She takes a shaky step away from me, her eyes darting between Tristan and I. Then with a final attempt at appearing dignified, she straightens with a huff before turning and walking away. I watch her leave with a victorious grin plastered on my face.
"Holy shit," I hear Tristan whisper in shock. He looks at me with awe. "You actually got rid of her. I've been trying to do that for weeks."
I roll my eyes and take my seat at the bar again, trying very hard to forget how close Tristan and I were just a few moments ago. I try to will my heartrate to slow down. I even flag the bartender down for two shots, hoping that'll do the trick.
"Poor Tristan," I coo mockingly. "Too many women fawning over him." I flash a tight grin at his scowl.
"It's not funny," he grumbles. He sits down on the barstool next to me. "She was awful. I couldn't figure out how to get rid of her without an actual restraining order." He grins at me, still looking impressed. "I had no idea I just had to sic Remy on her. I might need you to do that for a few other girls, too."
I glare at him before downing the double shot of tequila that just appeared in front of me. "You're a pig," I growl, wincing at the feel of the liquor's comforting burn. "I should've just let her have you."
I feel Tristan's body shift to face me. "Yeah, why didn't you let her have me?" he muses. "That's now the second woman you've driven away from me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."
I don't know if it's a placebo effect or if the tequila really has hit me already, but the extra dose of alcohol settles me into the category of perfectly tipsy—which is my favorite level of drunk, since I just end up happy and unable to give two shits about anything else.