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“No.” Griff’s tone leaves no room for discussion.
I snort and slap my hand over my mouth.
Kyla smirks and jabs her finger toward Griff. “I see you.”
Ignoring her, Griff drapes his arm over my shoulders and slides down in his chair. He lazily leans toward me and pulls me toward him at the same time. “Sorry, Wesley can risk an arrest to buy her alcohol if he wants, but I can’t afford to take the chance.”
“I don’t want you to.” I press my lips to his cheek. “You’re mine. Not my friends’ bartender.”
Desire brightens his eyes. “That right, Muffin?” His low voice is only meant for me.
“Oh, yes.”
He shifts his gaze to the ceiling.
“What?” I ask.
He slides his hand into his pocket and produces a flat black key card. “If you get tired of the after-party later, we have our own room.” He glances around the table. “Although, Hayden said most of your class rented rooms on the same floor, so it might be too loud to sleep.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” My friends only rented rooms at the hotel because they couldn’t bring the party to their parents’ houses. Griff has his own apartment.
He curls his arm around the back of my chair and rests his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
Griff
For Molly’s sake, I ignore the cold stares and watchful eyes of the teachers monitoring the prom. Yeah, I didn’t end up graduating from this school, but I did graduate. I have a decent job—that nothing I learned here prepared me for. These teachers can shove their judgmental attitudes up their asses.
Besides, I’m not the only twenty-something here. That wanker Wesley somehow conned Kyla into letting him tag along. Poor girl looked heartbroken at Hayden’s house when he showed up wearing a bright green tie that didn’t even remotely match Kyla’s peach dress. Didn’t bother to bring her a corsage or even a damn flower. I wanted to punch him just for making one of Molly’s friends unhappy.
Who am I kidding? My urge to use Wesley’s face as a speed bag is there no matter what.
The asshole showed up and plonked himself into the chair next to Kyla just as dessert was served. And now I’m stuck sitting at the same table as him while the girls bop around to what Molly told me was “their song” right before she raced onto the dance floor.
Molly’s so cute dancing and singing with her friends, I’ll just watch her and ignore Wesley until the song’s over.
“You want some?” Wesley shouts at me.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before turning to see what he’s offering—although I already have an idea.
He holds out a silver flask. “You’re gonna need it to get through the rest of the night.” He rolls his eyes and mimics the girls’ excitement with a high-pitched jumble of sounds.
“Why’d you come, then?” I ask, unimpressed by his attempt to make fun of the girls.
“Why not? Kyla’s the hottest one after Hayden and Molly. My brother’s into Hayden, so she was off-limits.” He points the flask at me. “Molly was going with you, sooo…” He shrugs as if that crude explanation makes any damn sense.
Anger roils my blood. This creepy perv rates his little brother’s classmates?
“Hey, I do know you.” Wesley leans forward and stares at me for longer than I’m comfortable having drunk dudes in my face. “Beggar! They used to call you beggar, right? Am I right?”
My stomach knots. Haven’t heard that name since fourth grade. Figures—that’s probably when Wesley stopped maturing. “They call me Stonewall now.” I raise one hand. “Because getting hit with one of my fists is like running into a stone wall.”
He’s either drunk or dumb because he doesn’t seem to recognize the threat. “Yes, yes! Stonewall. The Castle crew. My buddy Cannon says you’re like a hurricane in the cage.”
Cannon’s actually a decent guy and a clean fighter. Would he really associate with this clown, or is Wesley name-dropping?
“Yeah, that guy’s got a killer leg lock.” That seems like a neutral response.
He nods quickly.
