Page 103 of Too Sweet
He takes my hand, spinning me around, then pulls my back flush to his chest. Not even thirty seconds later, there’s a shift in the air, and different hands slide around my middle, holding me firmly so I can’t spin on my heel to check who’s there.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Brandon purrs in my ear, his voice raising the hairs on my neck. “How’s mypussy... cat?”
“Not yours.” I tilt my head so he can hear me. “Aren’t you bored of getting shot down? Let me go before I get security.”
“I like this game we play.” He slowly moves side to side, disregarding the upbeat rhythm pumping around us. “Ready to give up?”
Johnny’s watching, one eyebrow raised in silent question. I could wave him over, but I’m sure he’d tell Nico I needed help and I am notinvolving him. He’s overlooking my age but avoids talking about college to the point that he immediately changes the subject whenever the triplets ask me about finals. While Brandon’s game remains nothing but an inconvenience, I’m not telling Nico.
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I give up. Save your face. Your plan isn’t working.”
“Not working? So you’re saying you’re not even a little bit scared of what the guys might do?” He spins me around, his warm breath fanning my face. “I find that hard to believe since you kneed Dennis in the balls the other day.”
“He slapped my ass, and only my boyfriend gets to do that. I told you I’m no longer available.”
Brandon trails his fingers down my back, stopping an inch above my ass. “Your boyfriend, huh? How come I’ve never seen you with this guy? He’s imaginary, right?”
“God, no.” I spin around. “He’s very much real.”
Brandon smirks, looking me up and down. “I’ve not fucked you yet, kitten. You can call me God when you’re coming on my dick.” He stares at something over my shoulder. “I’ll bite. Who’s the lucky guy? It sure isn’t Conor unless you don’t mind that he’s currently sticking his tongue down Ann-Marie’s throat. That leaves Cody and Colt. Which one’s getting the money?” He leans closer, both hands on my waist as he sways to the music. “Or is it, Justin?”
“Justin?” I scoff. “He might be a decent guy, but he’s still your friend, Brandon, and anyone who sticks by you can’t have much common sense. Let me go, or—”
“Or what? You’ll knee my balls? I dare you, kitten.” A lick of malice flares his eyes as he grabs my wrist, yanking me closer. “Hit me again, and I’ll stop being so fucking nice.”
His grip tightens, bordering on painful, way past bruising point. This will take some explaining when Nico spots the bruises tomorrow.
The music fades, drowned out by blood whooshing in my ears, panic settling into my gut. This feels too familiar...Q, a guy touching me against my will...
Memories blur reality, diminishing my composure. Brandon’s face morphs into Asher’s and back, over and over, the tighter he holds me.
I can feel myself shaking, but I can’t stay grounded. My head’s too loud. Too chaotic to think straight, to weigh the consequences when I look to the side for help. Johnny’s still there, apparently blending in if Brandon hasn’t noticed him by now.
Our eyes lock, and that’s all he needs.
My pulse soars immediately. Not because of Brandon. Not because Johnny grips his neck, gouging his fingers into his flesh so hard his nails whiten. Not even because Conor is suddenly beside me, shoving me back and nailing Brandon’s face.
It’s because Johnny will report this to Nico, and I’ll have to lie again. If he finds out about the prize, he’ll leave me.
I’m not losing the best thing that happened in my life over Brandon Price’s misogynistic worldview.
“What the fuck?” Brandon booms, thrashing against Johnny’s hold. “Let me go, man! What’s your problem?!”
Two of his buddies jump in to help. One sends a clenched fist to Conor’s stomach, and the other jumps on Johnny’s back, climbing him like a tree.
All hell breaks loose.
Someone shoves me back again, and I slam into a hard chest. The last thing I see before Cody spins me to face him is a glimpse of an enraged Colt charging Brandon. All fire and brimstone as he steers out a punch.
“He put twenty-five grand up for you?!” Cody yells over the surrounding noise. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?!”
“I-I... I’m sorry, I—”
“Save it for later,” he snaps, tucking me against his side as more bouncers and more football players arrive.
Colt hammers his fists into Brandon in a deranged frenzy, paying no attention to his bleeding nose and split eyebrow. Random partygoers jump in, lashing out at everyone in their path, and the brawl gets out of hand within seconds.
“Get her outside!” Johnny yells, pointing to the exit.
