Page 19 of Her Filthy Grump
“He made it clear.” I raise the glass and take a sip out of the straw.
Once I swallow, I return the glass to the hard surface. I’m not much of a drinker, so I’ll likely spend the evening nursing this one drink. “The only time he wasn’t rude and bossing me around was when he carried me into the station. For a second, I thought there might be some spark, but he instantly shut it down. He couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“And then my dad showed up and made a scene.”
“Perfect.” Harbor gives a half-hearted laugh which sputters to a stop. Her eyes widen. “Oh, my God. There’s George Butler. I haven’t seen him for years. I heard he moved back to town.”
I twist slightly in my seat and glance over my shoulder. I don’t want it to appear obvious I’m scoping him out. George is talking with a barely legal girl in a short skirt while standing at the edge of the dancefloor.
The shakes shakes her head, causing her ponytail to whip from side to side. He grips her arm, and she rips it out of his grasp. “Looks like he’s as charming as always.”
“He’s such an asshole. I can’t believe he always thought he was God’s gift to women.” Harbor snorts and grabs her drink. Her red fingernails tap against the glass. “Shit.” Her eyes widen. “He’s coming our way.”
“Crap.” I cringe and stare at the wooden grains of the bar top. Maybe if we stay completely still, he’ll move on to the next unsuspecting victim.
The overwhelming scent of booze, bar soap, and cigarettes fill my nose. Nope. We aren’t that lucky.
Harbor arches an eyebrow, scrunches her nose, and mouths, “Hit him in the nuts?”
“Stop.” I giggle and grab my stomach.
Harbor’s way to solve all man problems is to hit them in the junk. I’m not sure that’s what her parents wanted her to learn while growing up with four brothers. But that’s the skillset she gained.
George drops his arms over our shoulders and sways. “Fancy meetin’ you two here. What ar’ you ladies doing tonight?”
“Having a drink.” Harbor’s voice is laced with sarcasm.
“No, shit?” George’s eyes narrow as he drops his arm off Harbor’s shoulders but keeps me in his embrace.
Lucky me.
“George, can you step back?” Harbor glares at him like he’s a pesky gnat she’s about to swat.
“Why?” He massages my shoulder, and I fight the urge to vomit. He’s just as disturbing now as he was at sixteen.
Only now, he’s moved from trying to get female attention by knocking girls down to trying to get into their pants with his smooth moves. Both ways are getting him the same results.
“Because Layla has chlamydia. I think you can get it through clothes.” Harbor gives George a sad look like she’s concerned about his health.
He jumps back and drops his arm to his side. “She’s lying, right?” His eyes are wide open as he gapes at me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the truth, but I’m not stupid. I hate lying, but I have no desire to spend the entire evening fending him off.
“I’m sorry.” My eyes drop to the floor by his feet. Who wears black tennis shoes? “I found out this morning. I should have told you when you approached, but I was too ashamed. The whole thing is humiliating.”
“You’re disgusting.” He glares at me like I’m a rotting diaper in the middle of a landfill. “If you can give it to others so easily, you shouldn’t even be out in public.” He twists on his heel and marches off.
I groan, “I’m going to hell.”
“Live a little.” Harbor rolls her eyes. “It was a tiny white lie to save you from having him hanging on you all night. You know he lusted after you when you were in middle school. That’s fucking creepy.” She sticks a finger in her mouth and fake gags.
“You’re not wrong.” It was scary as hell the way he followed me around everywhere when I was a preteen. It only got worse in my teen years. Eventually, my cousins cornered him and threatened to beat his ass. That was the end of his stalking. At least, that I caught him doing.
Chapter Twelve
Kameron