Page 29 of Crashed
He rubbed her back. “I’ll get it over with as quick as I can.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
She pouted up at him. “You want me to simper and bat my lashes at you so you don’t feel left out?”
He laughed softly. “Don’t you dare.”
The four of them turned to watch as they neared the table, and she felt like the weird goth girl at school who’d somehow gotten a date to prom with the captain of the football team.
Deacon introduced her, and after a once-over from the men and matching pinched smiles from the women, she took the seat next to Deke. They were judging her, just like she had them. But going by the way they stared at her, the way they looked like they were sucking lemons in an effort to maintain those terrifying smiles, she knew her first impression would prove accurate. They saw the ink and immediately saw her as beneath them. White trash.
Deke got straight to business beside her. He sat stiff in his chair, his voice low and clipped, and she knew he hadn’t missed the looks she’d gotten. She kept her focus on him. It was either that or make small talk with the mean girls across from her.
“Alex, isn’t it?” Tammy said, forcing her to look over at them.
Here we go. The cow knew damn well what her name was; Deke had only introduced her five minutes ago. Alex plastered a smile on her face, as fake as the bulging cleavage exploding from Tammy’s dress. “Yup. That’s me.”
Tammy tilted her head and flicked her hair over her shoulder in a move she no doubt practiced in the mirror.
“So, how long have you known Deacon?” There was a note of triumph in her voice, and something else, like the woman had some nasty secret and she was just dying to pull that shit out of her ass and fling it across the table at Alex.
“Since I was ten. Me and Deke go way back. You?”
The woman’s eyes widened, then narrowed, lips lifting on one side in a calculated way. If Tammy’s face wasn’t frozen from a crapload of Botox, she’d no doubt have an I-just-won-the-motherfucking-lottery expression on her face. “Ah, I know you. You’re the poor unfortunate orphan girl who hung around the Wests. Yes?” She turned to her friend. “You know, the one Emily told us about.”
Emily? What did Deke’s ex-wife have to do with this?
“Well. How nice of him to bring an old friend. He’s a great philanthropist. Never misses a chance to expand his charity work.”
Tammy’s friend giggled.
Nice.
These women knew all about her, somehow knew of her past and her connection to the Wests. Alex didn’t share that part of her life with anyone. They were obviously friends of Deke’s ex. Why would Emily waste her breath talking about her?
They were watching her like sharks circling a dying seal, waiting for an opening to take another bite. Alex grinned—it hurt to do it, but she was pretty sure she pulled it off. “Yeah, Deke’s a prince among men.”
The woman’s sharp blue eyes narrowed farther, obviously unhappy Alex hadn’t crumpled into tears or stormed from the bar. “So…” Tammy’s gaze moved over Alex’s upper arm.
“You like tattoos?”
Was this bitch for real? She felt Deacon stiffen beside her and rested her hand on his thigh, silently asking him to leave it. “No, my pimp held me down and made me get it. You?” Deacon made a choking sound but didn’t say a word.
Tammy forced a laugh. “Oh, you’re funny. And no, I don’t. I’ve always found them to be rather common.” The superiority she managed to slip into her high-pitched voice was impressive.
Alex sat back and crossed her arms under her breasts.
“Body piercings?”
Tammy’s eyes widened, then she and her friend laughed.
“Ah…no.”
Alex leaned into Deacon, who had turned in his seat and was openly listening now, tension rolling off him. “Deacon loves my nipple piercing. Don’t you, baby?”
To her surprise his lips twitched, and when he looked down at her, humor danced in his eyes. He slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. “It’s sexy as hell,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.
Poor Tammy nearly choked on her pinot gris. “See, Tammy. You should totally get one.”
