Page 36 of Play Fake
I snatch her up without another word, throwing her firefighter style over my shoulder, before whipping around to face Liam. He looks pissed. Not at me in particular but at the entire fucking world.
“Get some fucking ice for your hand and drink some fucking water. You need to sober the fuck up before you make any more bad decisions.” I bark at him.
I love Liam like a brother, and as his teammate I’d do nearly anything for him, but at this moment I’m ready to fuck him up myself.
I turn to Ben and Wren, whose eyes are still wide with disbelief.
“You got him?” I ask Ben, and he nods.
“Wren, you got keys?” I glance at her.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go.” I nod for the door and start making my way through the crowd.
“Put me down, you fucking brute!” Mac screams and hits me in the back.
“No, darlin’. You’ve had enough fun for the evening. You’re going home.”
“Who fucking died and made you king? Put me fucking down. I can fuck whoever I want!”
Her fists beat against my lower spine, but she’s drunk and disoriented enough they land in little thuds that feel more like a massage than the punishing blows she’s hoping for.
“Not king, captain darlin’. And youcanfuck whoever you want, but you’re notgoingto.”
Wren glances up at me with a worried look and then scurries ahead of us as we make our way out the door and down the sidewalk. The cool breeze is whipping over my heated skin, grounding me and bringing my temper back down to a manageable level. My breathing is still hard from the massive rush of adrenaline and the chaos of the last ten minutes, so I try to just focus on steady breaths.
“Put. Me. Down.” Mac demands.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I say it in a teasing voice, but the way her muscles tense, I can tell she’s not amused.
“Because I am a grown ass woman, asshole!”
“You were back there too when you started making out with your boyfriend’s best friend.”
“Fake boyfriend! Fake! Waylon, I swear to God…”
“Promise you’re not gonna run back inside and try to stick your tongue down Liam’s throat again?”
“I did not—He kissed me. I—I don’t owe you any explanations or promises! Put me down!”
“Nope.”
She hits me again, and it lands with another dull thud.
“God. Why are you such a fucking beast? You probably can’t even feel it. It’s not fair.” She complains.
Then I feel her tug at the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up.
“I’m going to scratch you if you don’t put me down. Maybe you’ll actually feel that.” She threatens.
“Oh yeah? You trying to turn me on now, darlin’?” I say it jokingly, but the thought of her nails on my back makes me worry I might betray my conscience if I don’t get her out of my hands soon.
She lets out a little screech and drops my shirt. “I hate you so fucking much, Waylon Prescott! I will never forgive you for this!”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.” I mutter under my breath because I’m sure I’d be kicking myself later. I mean, I definitely couldn’t fuck her, but would it hurt to let her run her hands over me? Kiss her once or twice? Let her straddle my lap again? Fuck. Fuck.Fuck.
Wren is walking even faster than me, and I’m eating up the sidewalk quickly. All too much in a hurry to get Mac home, get water in her hands and then put a whole lot of distance between us.
