Page 34 of The Trolley Kiss
I’m already dragging Tiffany away as he responds. “I’m going to get us drinks. Meet you out there.”
The guys both watch us dance from the bar as Ken waits for the bartender, so we put on a show. Obviously.
“You’re in so much trouble,” Tiff says to me as she moves her body against mine.
“Shut up. You’re wrong. He’s nothing.”
She shakes her head, letting me know she doesn’t believe a word I say. “Well, you better figure out which one you actually want to be with before you start a family feud.”
“I don’t want to be with either! They can fight all they want. That’s not my problem.”
A few guys try to get closer to us, but we spin and swing and sway to get away from them. They seem to back off slightly when Ken arrives on the dance floor with shots for all of us. “So it’s going to be that kind of night,” I joke before tipping the alcohol back. “Jesus! Fuck! That’s disgusting. Why do I do this to myself?”
Tiffany laughs, giving me a sip of her mixed drink so I can wash the shot down before I throw it back up. It burns all down my chest like my lungs have been ignited on fire, and then it hits my head. Things speed up and slow down at the same time. My dancing becomes more bold as my judgment eases its way out the door. I feel light. I feel stupid. I feel happy.
I’m drunk.
I know I’m going to regret this later on, but for this moment, I feel great. Now that Tiffany has her own dancing partner, it makes it more difficult to fend off all these thirsty men. How do they not know they should not approach if I don’t make eye contact with them? Isn’t that like basic human interaction knowledge?
In a short amount of time, I’ve gone from swaying seductively to basically flailing my arms around like a madman to get them away from me. I hold on to Tiffany’s hips and dance against her while she dances against Ken, figuring they’d give me space.
Nope.
Some guy grabs onto my hips and presses his whole body against me. I step back from Tiff and push my elbow back to get him off of me. He lets go but stays right behind me, getting all up in my space. I give Tiff that look that says I might need to take a break to lose this motherfucker.
Suddenly, his hands are back on my hips again, trying to grind his piddly, little dick against me. “Don’t touch m-.”
I stop midword when the man’s hands are yanked off of me, and he’s pulled back. “Take. Your. Hands. Off. Of. Her.”
I whip around at Declan’s voice. His face is furious. I’d probably be scared if he could actually pull his death glare away from the weasel.
The fucker doesn’t seem to share my concern. “Hey man, fuck off. We were just dancing.”
They both look my way. I give a surprised look at the stranger. Does he really think I’m going to defend him?
I shake my head no. The vein in Declan’s neck pops. I can see the way his heartbeat is throbbing right now. The man finally seems slightly worried and takes a few steps back. “Whatever man, you can have the bitch.”
Oh fuck.
I grasp at Declan’s arms, shielding the man with my own body. I place my hands on his chest when he still seems to be trying to lunge at the man.
His eyes finally fall down to my face, and I give him a reassuring smile. “Relax, it’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” His chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath. His whole body is tense.
I run my hands up to his shoulders and down his arms. “You’re right. It’s not, but it’s over now.”
He scrunches up his face, tensing his jaw. “They aren’t going to stop.”
Protective Declan does something to me. Something I can’t ignore. It’s physical. Physical is safe. Physical won’t hurt me.
I run my teeth over my bottom lip, checking him out, imagining all the ways he’d make me feel underneath him. His body relaxes when my eyes meet his, but he gives me a questioning look. “What are you doing?”
“Stay,” I say, grabbing his shirt and pulling him up against me. I sway to the music, letting the alcohol and rhythm flow back through my body.
“Addison.” His voice is breathy like he’s fighting with himself whether or not he wants to be here.
I turn and rub my ass against him. His fingers dig into my hips. He doesn’t pull away, so I lean back against him, running my hand up his neck and into his hair where I scrape my fingers against his scalp.