Page 51 of I Love to Hate You
I frown hard. “What? That doesn't even make sense.”
“Yeah?” he replies, still gawking. “Well, you're gonna start a fire in here if you rub up against me one more time. Do you get it now?”
Still frowning, I shake my head. “No, but whatever. I’m not interested.”
The man’s face suddenly shifts from infatuated to disgusted.
“Well, fuck you then, bitch,” he barks, grabbing the attention of everyone close to us. “In here acting like you're so fine. You’ve got your titties all up in my goddamn face with that tight ass dress on, now you wanna act like your shit don’t stink. I wouldn't even accept a blowjob from you.”
The man reaches out and presses his palm against my waist, pushing me back against the man on the barstool behind me.
“What the fuck?” the other guys barks, turning toward me as he gestures with his hands.
“Hey, stop it,” I snap, but he doesn't, and I’m suddenly refilled with all of the emotions my father gave me earlier. He was the first to mention my dress, and he called me a whore for wearing it. Now I have this asshole giving me the exact same shit. I’m instantly pissed and ready to fight, but my anger mixes with my emotion and brings stinging tears to my eyes. Just as it all threatens to overwhelm me, the man’s hand is violently knocked off of me in a downward thrust.
“Do we have a fucking problem here?” Kendrick questions, his voice coming out in a deep growl. He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me away from the bar, forcing me to stand behind him as he steps into the space I just left and glares down at the drunk asshole who touched me.
“Oh, you got a problem, big man?” the drunk guy asks. He struggles to stand up but manages to get face to face with Kendrick, who doesn’t move back a single inch.
“I’m the biggest problem you’ve ever seen,” Kendrick says. “And if you ever put your motherfucking hands on her again, I will break every finger you own. You’ll be picking up your next drink with your fucking feet. Now sit down before I embarrass you.”
The two of them engage in an intense face off that Kendrick quickly wins, because the drunk guy sighs and sits down, his eyes moving back and forth between Kendrick and me. He doesn't say anything else, but I can feel his anger. It wafts off of him just as much as his breath.
Kendrick eyes the other guy who had something to say, before turning to face me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answer. “Thanks for that. That guy was being a real prick.”
“You don't have to thank me for that,” he replies. “He's lucky I didn't break a bottle over his fucking head. I didn’t want to ruin our night when it hasn’t even started yet.”
I smile wide. “Yeah, that definitely would’ve gotten us kicked out of here, but it would've been hot, though.”
“I would expect a girl like you to say something like that.”
“A girl like me?”
“Yeah, a girl who’s just like me. It’s no wonder I’m so drawn to you,” he says, smiling and quickening my heart.
“Hey, is this your girl, bro?” a man behind Kendrick asks. When he turns around, I see that it’s the other guy who I’d been pushed into. From the expression on his face, it’s clear that he and the drunk guy are here together, and neither of them is happy about what just happened.
Kendrick’s hands immediately squeeze into fists. “It doesn't matter who she is to me. All that matters is that she’s here with me and not you. Why, what’s up?”
Both men glare at Kendrick, and it doesn't take being from Kensington to recognize malice. These two men are not good people, and I suddenly feel the urge to get us out of this situation before it escalates. I grab Kendrick by the arm and pull him back a bit.
“Yeah, it’s all good, bro,” the man says, the look in his eyes saying the exact opposite. “Y’all have a good night together.”
Kendrick tries to step toward him, but I hold him back. “Kendrick, let’s go. We don’t need to ruin our night over these assholes.”
“Assholes? That’s what’s up?” the first man asks.
“Yeah, that’s what’s up,” I reply, doing my best to suppress my own anger, but feeling my defenses faltering.
“Okay, then. We’ll see y’all. Yeah, have a good night.”
“Fuck you,” Kendrick says, just as Samantha steps into the mix and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, you guys,” she says calmly while glaring at the two men. “Our spot in VIP is ready, and we’re in Club Asylum. This isn't the spot for this.”
Kendrick finally relents and unclenches his fists. He angles his body away, but keeps his eyes on the two men. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
