Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend #4)(17)

Doesn’t matter what night it is in a college town, though. The bar is always in full swing.

I push open the front door, walking out into the cold fall night. I didn’t bring a coat of any kind and the air seeps through the lace of my borrowed top with quick speed, chilling me to the bone. A shiver passes over me and I glance around, wondering how the heck I am going to get home.

Normally, Kari and I would walk even though we live kind of far. Stupid, I know, but hey, we’re safer together than alone, right? Considering I am alone, no way am I walking tonight. Calling a cab would be pricey and I’d probably have to wait a while, but I don’t really have a choice.

Pulling out my cell, I start scrolling online, looking for a taxi service, when I hear someone call my name. I glance over my shoulder to see it’s Tad.

Great.

“Hey.” He approaches me, his expression full of—worry? I must be seeing things. “Are you okay?”

I offer him a weak smile and a weaker excuse. “I’m fine, really. Just … tired.”

“Um, sorry for what I said earlier.” He shuffles his feet, dropping his head so he can stare at the ground. “It was a total jerk thing to do.”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I want to smack myself for saying it’s okay when it so isn’t.

“So you’re leaving?”

I nod and glance down at my phone again. I really need to call a taxi so I can get away from Tad. He may be acting nice now, but I don’t trust him.

I don’t really trust anyone.

“I can take you home,” he offers.

My head snaps up and I study him. He looks sincere, but there’s something about his eyes … they’re too dark, too hard. A little mean-looking. It would save me megabucks if I rode home with him so I didn’t have to pay for a taxi, but I don’t want to take any chances. Something about Tad makes me uneasy. This guy has ulterior motives written all over him.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.” I try for the apologetic smile to ease my refusal, but all he does is frown at me.

“You won’t even take a ride from me. First you treat me like shit and will hardly talk to me and now you won’t even get in my car? I mean, what the hell? Do you think you’re too good for me or what?” Tad spits out at me.

I’m in shock. Too good for him? What is he talking about? “I’m not trying to offend you …”

“Too late,” he interrupts, grabbing hold of my arm with so much force I yelp. “Though you’ll make it up to me if you let me take you home.”

There’s no way I want this idiot to know where I live. “Let me go,” I say, trying to jerk out of his grip, but he’s holding on too tight. Any tighter and I’m afraid he’ll bruise my skin.

“Come on, Chelsea. Loosen up, would you? This virginal act has got to go.” Tad’s whining now, which is almost as bad as angry Tad. “I’m just looking for a little fun.”

So not the kind of fun I was talking about with Kari earlier. “Tad, please …”

“Let her go.”

The familiar deep voice comes from behind us and I turn on a gasp to find Owen Maguire standing there, glaring at Tad like he wants to rip his head off. Relief floods me, heady and strong, as Tad loosens his grip, and I swear I sway a little when he lets me go.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Tad says, backing away from me with his hands up in front of him, his eyes never leaving Owen.

“Then keep moving and you won’t have any,” Owen practically growls as he stalks toward us so he’s standing right next to me, his expression menacing as he stares Tad down.

Wow. No guy has ever come to my rescue quite like that before. Owen looks fierce, too, his hands clutched into fists at his side, his brows drawn down, eyes cold and mouth grim. Tad turns and breaks into a run, where to I’m not sure. I’m just glad he’s gone.

Breathing deep, I turn to look at Owen, startled when I find him already looking right at me. “Thank you,” I say, irritated when my voice comes out some breathy little whisper like I’m a dumbstruck girl.

Which I am. Not that I would ever admit it.

“What were you doing with that guy?” he asks, sounding irritated and looking mad. And hot.

Like, all sorts of hot. Those intense green eyes latch onto me like they’re never going to let me go and he turns more fully toward me, his broad shoulders blocking my view. Gosh, he’s tall! I tip my head back, trying to ignore the wave of yearning that washes over me at his nearness. He seems to make my brain short-circuit every time I get close to him.

“Um, my friend and I met up with him and his friend for a drink,” I explain, wincing when I see his eyes widen.

“Aren’t you underage?” he asks incredulously.

“Aren’t you?” I toss back. God, he has some nerve. Who is he to talk?

“I work here. I’m not trying to sneak in and have a few drinks.” He says the words as if he’s passing judgment, but I see the waver in his gaze. I would bet big money he’s done the very same thing, though probably not here since he claims he works here. “Where’s your friend?”

“Inside.” I wave my hand toward the door.

“And she didn’t leave with you?” He shakes his head. “Some friend.”