Page 58 of No Romeo
“Dude. That girl was giving you fuck me eyes.”
I glanced across the booth at Wolf. “I don’t give a crap.”
“She Who Shall Not Be Named has really screwed you in the head.”
“I’m just trying to be more selective. That’s all.” Selective as in only Lola.
I took one of the crayons and colored in the smiling pig’s face.
The way she had looked at me before she left this morning… left something unsettled in the pit of my stomach. What the hell was she hiding? Was she seeing someone else? Was that why she was so hellbent on friend-zoning me?
Maybe I was an idiot, just asking to get my pussy heart tossed into a blender and pureed into a little bitch smoothie again.
“Oh, shit…” Wolf slid his phone across the table. It skidded to a stop in front of my menu. “Look at that crap.”
I dropped the crayon, picked the device up, and skimmed the group chat between a bunch of Dayton football players.
@WolfBrooks, check out the message Olivia sent me.
A screenshot of another chat sat right below that message. I read over the exchange between a few of the Barrington football fucks.
Ethan: If he throws the first punch, it’s self-defense.
Harford: I’d pay money to have that asshole behind bars.
Jackson: All of them…
Ethan: Hunt has a temper. All it would take is one comment about his whore.
My jaw set. Heat bled over me, instigated more by his stupid comment about Lola than anything else. God, I hoped he came waltzing in here. I shoved Wolf’s phone back across the table.
“He’s after your ass. So, whatever happens, if he walks in here, you can’t go all black-out rage on him.”
And that would be a problem. I picked up the crayon again, aggressively coloring more of the picture.
Wolf lifted a bushy brow. “I’ll knock your ass out if I have to.”
“You probably will.”
“I think—” Wolf’s attention strayed behind me just before a plaid shirt came into view.
“Hey, I’m Chad. I’ll be your—”
I lifted my gaze to Gracie’s smiling, blond, trust-fund foster brother.
He went silent, and my jaw set. He and Lola worked together? Which meant she was around him all the time. Working with him. Riding in his shiny, dickdribble truck with him.We can’t do anything.Probably because of this blond turd right here.
The territorial silver-back, King Kong-sized beast inside me, puffed out its chest. “Where’s my girl, Chadwick?”
The slight, forced smile on his preppy-boy face faded.
When he didn’t answer, I lifted a brow.
“Did I stutter, Richie Rich? She said she was working tonight.”
He swiped a hand through his stupid blond hair and breathed out a “Shit.”
“Maybe the pussy’s got his tongue,” Wolf said, aiming a menacing glare at him.
