On the Rocks (Last Call #1)(41)

“Nothing,” Alyssa says quickly, shooting a firm look to Casey to keep her mouth shut. Casey returns a smirk to her but remains silent.

Just then, Hunter’s gaze snags onto something behind Alyssa. At first, his face breaks out into a wide smile, then just as quickly, it dims, and his mouth sets into a flat line. I turn slightly to see what Hunter is looking at and notice a man and woman who just walked into the bar. The guy has dark hair that he wears all one length just down to his jawline, and he’s dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt. The woman also has dark hair, which is long and loose. She’s wearing a print maxi-dress with gold sandals peeking out. They are a beautiful couple that I assume are tourists, although that doesn’t explain Hunter’s reaction to them.

The man and woman spy Hunter at our table and start walking toward us. Hunter stands up and steps a few feet away from the table to greet them.

“I’ll be damned,” Casey says in wonder.

My eyes flick to her. “What?”

“That’s John and Sasha Hammer. I didn’t realize Sasha was coming.”

“Is that John’s wife?” I ask.

Shaking her head, Casey says, “No, it’s his sister… and Hunter’s ex-girlfriend.”

Ex-girlfriend? What?

Turning around, I watch as Hunter and John clasp hands and pull each other in for a half-hug, half-back slap, both of them grinning broadly. When they pull away, Hunter turns to Sasha and I watch with my breath stuck in my lungs. As if in slow motion, Sasha moves in toward Hunter, seemingly to give him a hug… which okay, nothing wrong with that.

Hunter’s face is impassive, and I’m dying to know what feelings he has going through him right at this very moment. Just as they are getting ready to embrace, Sasha wraps her arms around Hunter’s neck, plasters her body to his, and kisses him. And not a friendly kiss on the cheek, or even a quick peck on the lips. Her mouth opens up over his, and I even see her tongue slide into his mouth. Hunter’s hands come to her shoulders, and she angles her head in for a deeper kiss.

I wish I could adequately describe the flood of rage that overwhelms me at this very moment. Rage toward Sasha for kissing Hunter, and rage toward Hunter for kissing her back. And rage against myself for ever even hoping that I could have something with Hunter.

A hazy film of red covers my eyes, and I stand up so abruptly from the table that my thighs hit the edge and cause my drink to topple. Luckily, it flies in the opposite direction of me… straight at Casey for that matter, who also jumps up from the table to avoid having a lap full of Bloody Mary while she yells, “Fuck.”

I turn to grab my purse, and I can see from the corner of my eye that Hunter and Sasha have broken apart. As I turn toward him, he’s watching me with wary eyes, while Sasha’s seem smug and defiant.

Lacing my voice with as much venom as I can, I snarl at him, “You’re an *.”

Turning toward the front of the bar, I stalk across the floor, slinging my purse over my shoulder. I hear Casey call my name, but I don’t stop. Brody shoots me a worried glance as I walk by, and then I’m outside in the cool, spring night air.

I stop just outside of the door and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I’m seething… beyond furious, and there’s no telling what kind of havoc I left back in there with my outburst.

Turning my head left and right, I realize I don’t even have a ride. Casey drove tonight, and we were planning to cab it home. No worries… I take off toward the highway, intent on walking home. It’s only a few miles.

“Gabby, wait,” I hear Hunter call out.

I ignore him and quicken my pace. The sound of his shoes crunching through the gravel start getting louder and before I can even reach the end of the parking lot, he’s grabbing my elbow.

Tearing away from his grasp, I snarl, “Get the f*ck off me.”

He just grabs ahold of me again, this time around the waist, lifting me up and turning me back toward Last Call. I kick my legs out and try to pry his arms away, but he’s too strong and sure-footed.

“Let me go, Hunter,” I cry out in frustration.

“Not until you settle down and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re an *.” I start really struggling to get out of his bear hug, and he has to set me down and re-tighten his hold. He does this by quickly releasing and re-wrapping his arms around my chest, pinning my arms down at my side.

“Will you just listen?” he shouts when I start to struggle again. “You’re acting like a brat.”

That just infuriates me more, giving me the strength to almost bust out of his grip. He surprises me then by letting go but, before I can think to flee, he spins me around and crushes me to him, his mouth coming down hard on mine. For a split second, I kiss him back but then my anger returns. I rip away from him and wipe my mouth, not in a show to dig at him, but because I’m truly disgusted.

“How dare you kiss me after you just kissed another woman?” I say as I stare at him wildly.

“I didn’t f*cking kiss her,” he snarls back at me. “She kissed me, and if you’d waited just a second longer before you jumped up from the table, you would have seen me push her away.”

“Whatever,” I snap at him. “I know what I saw.”

“No, you don’t,” he says tiredly. “You clearly don’t. You’re wrong, Gabby.”