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She trails her nails down the column of my neck. “Do you want to dance?”
“With you? Anytime.” I grab her hand, hauling her off the stool, and walk toward the dancefloor.
When we dodge past a table of guys, one of them stands, causing the chair to tip backward and scrape along the wooden surface. “Saylor?” He grabs her forearm, and I’m instantly on high alert.
“Yes.” She squints at the backward baseball cap-wearing guy with the gray t-shirt, and her face drops. “Ben.”
“Ben?” My jaw clenches. Is this the asshole that humiliated her?
“Yes.” She nods. Her eyes dart from him to me as she shakes her arm, causing his hand to fall to his side.
“It’s good to see you.” His eyes glisten but remain unfocused as if he’s had one too many drinks.
I grab her hand and place myself between her and the prick. “What do you want?”
“Dude.” He raises his hands in defense and steps backward, bumping into the chair. The two other guys at his table watch us warily like they know him, but not well enough to come to his defense. Not that I would’ve cared. I can take all three of them. His eyes widen. “You’re Knox Tillman.”
“Yes, I am.” I tilt my head to the right and left, making popping sounds with Saylor still behind me.
“Knox.” She grabs my forearm. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” I grumble, but I move out of the way. She can fight her own battles, but if the guy even looks crazy at her, I’m going to knock his ass onto the floor.
“It’s okay.” She smiles reassuringly and straightens her shoulders, stepping around me to face him. “There’s no reason to reminisce. We weren’t friends in high school.”
“Don’t be a shrew.” Ben glances at his tablemates and clears his throat. “We were cool in school, weren’t we? We were only having a little fun with you.”
“No.” Her eyes flash in anger. “It wasn’t fun. You and your friends were bullies.”
“Don’t be a harpy. ‘Forgive and forget’ that’s my motto.”
“That might be yours, but it’s not mine.” She laces her fingers through mine. “My motto is ‘forgive but never forget.’ I forgive you for being a bully because that was years ago, and I won’t let you control my emotions anymore. But I’ll never forget you treated me like trash.”
“Dude.” He shakes his head and punches my shoulder. “She’s a real firecracker, isn’t she? I missed that back in the day. No wonder you want to bang her. When you’re done–”
I grab two fistfuls of his t-shirt and drag him toward me until our faces are inches apart. “Don’t ever insult my girl again. You’re a prick.” I tip my head toward the other two guys at the table. “They even know it because they’re not jumping up to come to your defense. Do yourself a favor and get a new personality.”
“Asshole,” he hurls out as his feet dangle an inch off the floor. I could use him for a mop, but Coach Slater frowns on excessive shows of force, and I’m riding the thin line between his idea of acceptable and mine.
“Back the fuck off.” I drop him, and he stumbles, knocking his thigh into the table. The pitcher of beer teeters to one side, and a guy in a black t-shirt grabs it before it crashes onto the ground.
“Fuck you.” He lurches forward, and the two guys jump up, grabbing his arms.
“Ben, you’re drunk. Let it go.”
“What?” He blinks at them like he doesn’t know what they said.
“Let. It. Go.” The blond man’s jaw flexes as he holds him steady. “There are at least ten guys here from the football team. You’re going to get your ass beat.”
“Fuck you.” Clearly, he has a limited vocabulary. He jerks away and marches across the wooden floor, smacking the door with both palms. The dark sky envelops him as he disappears.
“Sorry about that,” the black t-shirt guy says. “We only work with the guy. He’s a total prick.”
“Yes, he is.” Saylor nods and pins them with a warning glance. “You should pick better work friends.”
I smile and wrap my arm around her waist. She is turning out to be a little spitfire. Now, to get her onto the dancefloor where we were supposed to be and forget this little interruption.
