Page 40 of Louder Than Words

His face scrunches like he smells something rancid, body stiffening, shutting down any chance of conversation.

He slowly reaches out and pulls down the scarf wrapped around my neck.

I flinch as it slips, revealing the angry love bite Jax left behind.

Trevor’s eyes snap to mine, and I can’t tell if he’s disgusted… or broken.

“Real nice, Allie,” he spits before turning and walking back inside.

I stand frozen, more defeated than I’ve ever felt.

But as much as I feel defeated, I feel just as confused by the look that flashed across his face before he walked away.

18

I could name a million places I’d rather be right now.

Like in bed. Sprawled out on the couch. Hell, even the floor would do. Anything would be better than sitting inside an overcrowded pub with the bass so high the distortion threatens to slice your eardrums. Especially right after our first radio show. Yet here we are.

“No, no, no!” Desmond shouts over the music at James. “It’s lick, drink, then suck! Goddamn, you’reterribleat this!”

I swivel in my chair just in time to see James wobble on his stool, barking out a laugh as he follows Desmond’s instructions. Then he tosses the lime onto the table with a slap.

“That’s what I fucking did!” James protests, his cheeks already screaming red. “I licked the stupid salt. Did the shot. Then sucked the bloody lime—just like you said!”

Desmond flings an arm in my direction. “Come on, Jax! Back me up here!”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Nuh-uh. You two leave me out of this,” I say into my bottle before taking a long pull.

Just as I’m about to face the bar again, movement catches the corner of my eye.

It’s Gareth—which is surprising.

I forgot he was even with us to begin with. He insisted on sitting pretty much alone and hasn’t said a bloody word to a single one of us since we’ve been here.

But if he thinks he’s sneaking out of here alone, he’s got another thing coming. Because I sure as hell don’t want to be here, either.

My eyes follow him as he sulks across the floor, then finally props himself lazily against the far wall—just inches away from a blonde in a leather miniskirt.

I don’t know why I care enough to keep my eyes trained on him, but lately, I just don’t recognize him. I guess I could blame it on the shock thatGareth, the one who tore into Emelia for what she did to me, is now leaning in a little too close to some random blonde. Yet here he is, acting like he doesn’t have Nora waiting for him and a baby on the way.

The whole thing honestly makes me sick to my stomach.

I watch them talk, the woman twirling her long hair around a manicured finger, giggling at whatever the hell he’s saying. But then he has the nerve to place his hand on her thigh, inching upward—and I’m already out of my seat.

I make it over to them faster than he can lean closer into her neck.

My hands land on his shoulders with a loud clap as I glance at the woman.

“Mind if I steal this bloke?” I ask, but don’t bother waiting for an answer.

He stumbles as I drag him toward the side door, and we spill out into the cold alleyway—one that reeks of garbage that’s been sitting out for months, cigarettes, and fresh vomit.

Perfect combination, if you ask me.

He tries to fight me off, but I just tighten my grip.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Jax,” he sneers, but he’s not slurring.