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“The blind girl? You’re friends with the blind girl?” she asks incredulously.
“Her name’s Penelope,” I cut her off. I was so sick of her bullshit behavior. Moving closer, I drop my voice so only she can hear it. “Maybe you should try to remember that the next time you talk about her because if I hear you say something like that again, youwillregret it.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, taking a step back as if I slapped her.
“Or better yet, maybe you shouldn’t talk about her at all.”
I don’t bother waiting for her reply before I get the hell away from her and walk across the room to where Birdy is still dancing with lover boy.
Or better said, where the guy’s mauling her.
Gritting my teeth, I start walking faster, when a drunken guy stumbles into my path. Shoving him out of my way, I close the distance between Penelope and me.
“Get your hands off of her,” I hiss quietly as I tug the guy’s hands from her.
He looks up, a frown between his brows. “What the fuck, dude? We’re just dancing.”
“Well, now we’re going home.”
Wrapping my fingers around Penelope’s wrist, I pull her to me. She looks up, those dark eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking you home,” I repeat, my fingers tightening around her wrist. “Let’s go.”
“Bash!” she protests, but I don’t let her go.
Her friends are standing by the wall and chatting. Jade spots us instantly, her eyes narrowing slightly, but before she can make a move, her boyfriend pulls her to him. His eyes meet mine over her head, and I can see the warning written in them as clear as day.
Ignoring it, I pull Penelope into the hallway and out of the house.
“Let me go!” Penelope protests, but I choose to ignore her.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, matching my sour mood and the rapid beat of my heart.
“Bash, stop this. Now!”
“Stop calling me that!”
“You’re hurting me.”
Her words make me stop in my tracks. She uses this moment to tug her hand out of mine as she swirls around and jabs her finger into my chest.
“What the hell’s your problem?” she yells as lightning strikes, illuminating the dark sky.
“I hate when you call me that.”
Bash was the name my fans used for me. People who didn’t know me at all, just thought they did. People who wanted pieces of me. She wasn’t like that, so I hated hearing her use it.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Her words are accompanied by another firm jab.
I grab her wrist, gentler this time, stopping her from poking me more.
“Stop this.”
She tilts her chin up, fire blazing in her irises. “When you stop acting like a huge, annoying asshole.”
My mouth falls open. “Did you just call me an asshole?”
