Page 38 of Entwined Hearts
“I know a cowboy when I see one,” I said, gesturing to his hat. “And I haven’t seen you here before, so…” I shrugged.
He grinned. “Beauty and brains, I like it.” He leaned in close enough for me to smell his cologne as he whispered, “I’m a bull rider.”
I fought the urge to ask if he knew Weston. “That right? So you took Whiplash for a spin then?” I asked, gesturing to the mechanical bull in the corner of the bar.
“That thing threw me off in two seconds,” he laughed. “I’m Dylan, by the way.”
“Savannah,” I replied, holding out my hand.
He took it and pulled me out onto the dance floor. I let out a shocked laugh. Okay, I had to admit that was smooth. Or maybe I was just drunk. I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care.
“You have a nice laugh.” Dylan pulled me close. His hands felt wrong, but he didn’t seem to be dangerous, so I stayed. It was harmless fun, as Delilah would’ve said.
“Thanks.” I scrambled for something to say. “I like your hat.”
He plucked it off his head and placed it on mine. “Looks better on you,” he said, his voice lowering.
I was getting ready to give it back to him, not wanting to send the wrong message that I was interested, when I got hauled off the floor. “What the—” the words died on my tongue when I came face to face with a livid Weston.
“I know you know what that means, Savannah, so what the hell are you doing wearing another man’s hat?” he growled, his hand shaking where it was wrapped around my bicep.
“Holy shit, you’re Weston Tate,” Dylan gasped next to us, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Weston, trying to formulate words.
He was here, here at the Bull Pen,touchingme.
He ripped the hat off my head and slammed it into Dylan’s chest, making him stagger back. “Yeah, so why the fuck is your hat on my girl?”
Dylan’s eyes went wide, face leeching color. “Shit, sorry man, I didn’t know.” He put his hat back on. “Think I could get an autograph?”
“Get out of here before I do something I’ll regret,” he warned, and my lips parted with a shaky breath at this possessive side of him. I’d never seen anything like it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, still trying to process the sight of him.
His face tightened. “What am I—what areyoudoing here?” He glanced around the bar, streaks of blue and purple and white lights dancing across his face. “This isn’t your scene.”
I scowled up at him. “How do you know? For all you know, I could be a party girl who does drugs in the bathroom and sleeps with anyone who smiles at her.” I ripped my arm out of his grasp. “You don’t know me anymore, Weston, so stop pretending you do!”
He took a step towards me, eyes dark with rage. “Like hell I don’t,” he said, voice low. “I know you better than anyone ever has, than anyone ever could.”
My jaw tightened, furious that he embarrassed me like that. I wasn’t a child who needed to be looked after. But I was angrier that he was right, that he did know me. “I can’t believe you did that. Do you know how humiliating that was? You storming in here like you own me, calling me your girl. I don’t belong to you!”
He took my hand in his, pulling me to him until our bodies were flush. My breath caught as I collided with him and braced myself with a hand on his chest. The heat that radiated off him made my head spin.
He cradled the side of my face, making me tilt back to look at him. “The fuck you don’t. You’ve been mine since you were sixteen years old and made me fall in love with you. You’re mine just as much as I’m yours, and it’s time for you to admit it.”
My chest tightened. The tequila, the crowd, Weston’s hands on me. It was too much. I shoved him off me, the walls closing in. I forced my way through the crowd until I was outside, the air cool against my overheated skin. I went to the side of the building, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.
Weston wasn’t far behind, throwing open the doors. “Savannah!” he yelled, but stopped short when he rounded thecorner. All the frustration disappeared when he saw me hunched over, worry taking its place. “You okay, angel?”
“Couldn’t breathe,” I panted. He rested a hand on my shoulder, and I smacked it away and straightened. “I can’t breathe with you constantly crowding me.” A wounded look crossed his face. “Can’t breathe with you looking at me like that, like you still love me.”
“But I do, Sav. You know I do.”
“Just stop!” I yelled, and his eyes widened, startled. “Everywhere I look, you’re there. Every conversation I have, you get brought up. Every time I have sex with someone, I compare them to you. I can’t evensleepwithout dreaming about you anymore. I can’t escape you, Weston. You’re suffocating me, and I can’t take it anymore!”
His eyes hardened. His face a mix of hurt and anger. “If you want me out of your life so damn bad, then fine. But I’m not giving you the easy way out, you have to say it.” He stalked towards me. “You have to look me in the eye, and tell me you want nothing to do with me, and you better fucking mean it.”
I shook my head and let out a frustrated whimper. “You aren’t getting it.” I cradled his face in my shaking hands and crashed my lips to his, unable to take it anymore.
