Page 90 of Small Town Firsts

“My problem,” he says through gritted teeth once we’re outside, “is you.”

“Me?” I yell, outraged. “I’m hard-fucking-pressed to see howI’mthe problem. Only one of us here is a psycho-ass liar! Youtold him I was seventeen, yet I’m the problem? You’ve got a lot of nerve, asshole!”

He paces back and forth in front of me, tugging on the ends of his hair. “Yes. You! Jesus Christ Abby Jane!” His raised voice and lethal tone cause my nipples to pebble and that just pisses me off even more.

Even still, his words have my anger morphing to confusion. “I’m gonna need you to slow down and use your big boy words, Brock.”

He halts in front of me, looking like he’s about to blow a gasket. “You’re in there grinding on some asshole, looking like your two seconds away from fucking him right there on the dance floor!”

I tilt my head to the left.Is…is he jealous?“And your point is?” I ask.

“My point,” he whispers, a vulnerable look flashes across his face so fast I almost miss it. He starts again, his voice stronger. “My point is that you’re embarrassing yourself, and I couldn’t fucking bear to watch it.”

I rear back as if he slapped me, shaking my head back and forth. “Wow.”

“Abby Jane, I didn’t…”

I’m about to tear him a new one when Stacia darts up to my side. “Cage told me Brock dragged you here. Are you okay?” she asks, inspecting me from head to toe before turning to glare at Brock.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Abs,” Brock says, his tone pleading.

I hold up a hand. “Save it. I have nothing to say to you. Unless it’s Tuesday or Thursday at five, stay the fuck away from me.”

Not giving him a chance to reply, I grab Stacia’s hand and set off toward home.

CHAPTER 6

BROCK

I watch on,shock and regret both swirling through me, as Abby Jane and Stacia stumble down the street. As pissed and confused as I am about how this night played out, I’m smart enough to know they’re in no shape to walk home alone, so I trail behind, just close enough to keep an eye on them without alerting them to my presence.

I follow them all the way to an apartment building, where one of them must live. Once they’re inside, I slip my phone from my pocket and fire off a text to West, asking him to come pick me up.

Not even five minutes later, his gunpowder gray Mercedes AMG-GT R is idling at the curb. Even though I’m pulling the door open, the jackass honks at me to hurry. “C’mon, get in!” he hollers.

“Are you drunk?” I ask.

“Nah. Only had half a beer. Now, let’s go. I got someone waiting on me, if you catch my drift, and I need to drop your ass off quick-fast.”

“Such a whore.” I say the words with a smile.

West checks his mirrors before revving the engine and zooming out into the street. “Don’t be jealous because I’mgetting some tonight, and you’ll only have your hand to keep your dick warm.”

“How about you focus on the road and not my dick?”

“Wanna talk about you and little Abby Jane tonight instead?”

“Nah, not for real.”

“You sure? You don’t wanna talk about y’all went from practically fucking on the dance floor to fighting in the street?”

My tone is clipped as I reply. “Absolutely positive.”

Ignoring the warning in my voice, West cackles like a goddamn hyena as he whips his car into the parking lot of the house I share with him. He’s two years older than I am, making it the perfect living arrangement.

I exit his car, and he wastes no time throwing it into reverse. As he backs out, he lowers the window. “Don’t bother waiting up!”

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