Page 27 of Taking the Pitch
“Charlie!” I start, but Judd interrupts me.
“Great, cars in the garage. Let’s go,” he says, turning on his heel and making his way back to the elevators. Hazel looks between me and Charlie before taking off after Judd, whose long legs have him half-way back to the elevators in a few strides.
“What the fuck, Charlie?” I whisper, following behind her.
“I could ask you the same thing, Millie,” she shoots back. “What was that?”
“What? I told you we didn’t get along.”
Her lips tip up and she snorts. “Looks like you guys get alongjust fine.”
I stop and put my hand on her arm, stopping her with me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means Hazel was right. He wants to fuck you.” I let go of her arm and she trudges ahead, leaving me standing there with my mouth gaping open, watching her join Hazel and Judd.
“Coming, Gumdrop?” Judd asks when the elevator opens, and he sees me still standing in the hallway.
I’d like to punch him in the gumdrops.I think to myself as I trudge down the hall and walk into the elevator, not saying a word.
CHAPTER EIGHT
judd
I didn’t thinkit was possible, but Amelia is even hotter when she’s mad and right now she’s downright pissed. We get to my Jeep, and I hit the unlock button, jogging ahead and opening the doors for the girls. To my surprise, Amelia throws herself into the front passenger seat and buckles up, staring ahead. She must notice my surprise because she rolls her eyes and says, “I get carsick, so I have to sit up front if I’m not driving.” Still not looking at me.
I close the doors and hop into the front seat, turning the engine over. “Where to, ladies?”
Charlie’s the one who answers. “Ignite.”Shit.I haven’t been back since the night I was arrested. I look in my rearview and Charlie’s eyes meet mine. “You don’t have to stay. We can just reserve an Uber ahead of time.”
“No, I’ll stay and drive you drunkies back when you’re ready,” I tell her, giving her a wink in the rearview and putting the Jeep in reverse and turning to look behind me, placing my hand behind Amelia’s seat.
“You have a rearview camera.” Amelia nods to the screen.
I lean closer to her and move my hand from the headrest to play with a lock of her hair. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to look at you.”
Her eyes flick to mine briefly before she rolls them and looks away, biting her bottom lip. She crosses her legs, making her already incredibly short skirt ride up even further. She uncrosses her legs and pulls her skirt back down, huffing out a sigh and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up higher.
I adjust slightly in my seat as I drive us out of the underground garage, trying to ease the pressure of my erection that’s formed against my pants since seeing her standing in the lobby. I had every intention of grabbing my mail and heading upstairs to watch a movie like I told the girls, but as soon as I overheard them talking about getting a ride share and saw Amelia in that costume that leaves little to the imagination, I knew I wasn’t letting them go anywhere alone, especially since I know they’ll be drinking.
No one speaks as we exit the garage, taking a right onto the street, the music from my playlist filling the space. The song ends and Taylor Swift’s “I did something bad” comes across the speakers.
“Oh, fuck yeah!” Hazel yells from the back. “Turn that shit up Millie,” she says, dancing in her seat.
Amelia reaches for the dial, her hand pausing halfway. “Do you mind?” she asks.
I look over at her quickly, liking the way she looks in my passenger seat, maybe a little too much, and shake my head. “Not at all Princess, go for it.”
“I’m no one’s princess,” she mutters, cranking the volume up before I can respond.
Hazel lets out a whoop and raises her arms up in the air, as far as the roof lets them at least, and shimmies in her seat.Charlie even joins in singing along with Hazel and Tay-Tay. Amelia looks back at them and barks a laugh.
“Come on Millie! Dance with us!” Hazel says, scooting as close to the middle as she can and bopping to the beat.
I start drumming my hands on the steering wheel. “Yeah, come on Amelia,” I say, singing along with the music.
A look of shock crosses her face. “You’re a Swiftie?” she yells over the music.
“Game recognizes game.”
