#Junkie (GearShark #1)(49)

“Well, if all that testosterone is too much for you, you have my number,” he whispered loudly, and I heard him walk off.

“He gave you his number!” Drew roared.

Max pushed off his stool and faced Drew. He was about the same height, maybe a little thicker, but it wasn’t muscle. “I think you better leave. We were all just fine until you got here.”

Drew laughed. It wasn’t a humorous sound. In fact, it kinda made me nervous.

“Drew,” I said.

“Yeah?” Drew ignored me and spoke to Max. “Who’s gonna make me?”

Max reared back. I saw his fist clench.

“Oh, hell no!” I bit out and lurched to my feet. I moved fast, shoving myself between the men and planting myself in front of Drew.

I pushed my face close to Max’s and spoke low. Deadly. “You don’t touch him. Ever.”

His eyes widened, clearly surprised. The vibe I exuded was far different than the one I had all night.

He threatened Drew. That was all I needed to go from laidback to lethal in seconds.

“Clearly, I read this situation wrong.” He backed down.

I stepped back just a fraction, wanting him to know I wasn’t going to deck him if he didn’t give me a reason to. My back came into contact with Drew’s chest. He didn’t step back; he stood there so close I could feel the heat off his body.

I felt like I stepped into the twilight zone.

Max grabbed his wallet and turned toward the bar, not fully putting his back to me. “How much?”

He was going to leave.

“No, man, you don’t have to go. I will.” I reached for my wallet. Drew was so close I had to lean forward to grab it.

As I was sliding it out of my back pocket, his fingers closed around my wrist. “No.”

I glanced at him. Our eyes collided for a fraction of a second. I felt that contact all the way to the soles of my feet.

“I got it,” he murmured and produced some cash and tossed it on the bar. “That’s for his and ours.” He pointed across the room where Joey was standing, watching the scene with wide eyes.

Of course she was here.

Suddenly, I was totally embarrassed.

For a minute there, I thought Drew was jealous. But he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. He was here with her.

“What are you even doing here?” I swung around on him.

He stepped back. “Long story.” His eyes searched my face. I started to forget I was embarrassed.

I will not cave. I will not cave.

“Well, I’m good. You can go,” I said.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re coming with us.”

“No. I’m not.”

Drew leaned forward and spoke low. “I will cause a f*cking scene right now, frat boy. Let’s. Go.” His hand grabbed my wrist and tugged.

Joey appeared at my side. “C’mon, Trent. We should go. It’s been a long night. He’s already started one fight. Let’s not push it.”

I glanced down at her. She nodded.

“What fight?” My voice was grim.

“Outside,” she said.

I relented. “Fine.”

Drew was still holding my wrist, and I yanked it free and stalked outside ahead of them. Out in the parking lot, I stared up at the moon.

I was back to feeling like I was losing my mind.

What just happened in there?





Drew

We didn’t talk about what happened in the bar at all.

But, oh, was it there.

It burned beneath my skin like a fever. It gnawed at my stomach in a way only severe hunger could. Confusion tried to battle against the other emotion within me, but confusion was a far weaker opponent for anger.

Shit, was I angry.

I felt betrayed on so many levels. Like our unspoken yet sacred best friend bond had been stomped on tonight. By Trent’s size-twelve shoe.

Literally right in front of me lay our relationship with the tread marks from his boots. How the f*ck could he sneak off to a gay bar without me? How could he not tell me something so basic about himself?

Because it isn’t basic.

It was earth shattering. Life altering. Friendship defining.

Trent wasn’t gay.

Is he?

He dated women.

Barely.

He hooked up with women.

Not often.

I would know if he were gay.

You do.

How could he do this to me? To our friendship? Even though I was driving and staring out the windshield, it wasn’t the road I saw.

Trent was at the bar. Trent’s wide, familiar build faced away from me. How the gray shirt clung to his broad back and stretched out over his shoulders like a second skin. How the brim of that f*cking black backward baseball hat created a shadow against his neck, creating a sort of veil over the smooth, warm skin there.

The scene replayed in my mind over and over.

The way his shoulders shook with his laugh. How strong his hard, wide jaw looked when he turned his head in the direction of the man he was with.

I watched the side of his lip curve up, and I knew the exact smile stretching his face. He’d smiled at me like that a thousand times before. His crooked tooth was on full display. Judging by the way the man beside him leaned in, he thought it was just as charming as I did.

Wait. I thought his crooked tooth was charming?