“Barbie?” a few of the guys call out and laugh. I didn’t mean to get her name wrong. I don’t think.

“Here.” She shoves a bottle of water into Austin’s chest. I don’t know Barbie-Jessie, but even I can hear the anger in her voice.

“Drink this. Slowly,” Austin demands, handing me the bottle. I sip it, as directed.

“I’m heading home,” Barbie-Jessie adds with a pout.

“Fine,” Austin responds without even looking up. I feel bad for her. I honestly do. I know how it feels to be the center of Austin’s attention. It’s like stepping out of a cave and feeling the warm sun after a long, cold winter. It’s living instead of just surviving. Losing it is to step back into the darkness. I could easily be in her shoes, being summarily dismissed by the sexiest man alive.

“Sorry, Barbie.” I mean it genuinely, but the use of her nickname, which I can’t seem to stop saying, makes it sound passive-aggressive and super-bitchy. Barbie, I mean Jessie, slinks off without another word.

“Damn, new girl. That was cold,” the guy who defended me earlier quips.

“Told you. She’s the ice queen,” Monte adds. Suddenly my stomach doesn’t feel so good.

“Shut the fuck up, Monte,” Austin snarls. Monte huffs and sips his beer.

“I didn’t mean…” I try to explain, but I can’t find the words.

“That’s enough.” Austin stands in a single motion, holding me to his chest as if I’m light as a feather. I’m nauseated from the movement, but the simple demonstration of how powerful he is still turns me on. I can’t help myself from moaning in his ear as he carries me back to his room.

“Easy,” he warns. “Nothing’s happening tonight.”

Nothing did, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed about that.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Austin

It’s early as fuck to be calling it on a Friday night, but between Monte trying to start shit and Elizabeth drunk off her ass, I’m fucking done. I make Elizabeth drink some water, peel her out of that ridiculous excuse for a dress and put her in one of my T-shirts. I lay her down in my bed and she passes out almost immediately, dead to the world.

I flop down next to her, too pissed to sleep. Pissed she’s wasted. Pissed some other guy was touching her. Pissed Monte was staring at her tits.

She fucking licked me.

I chuckle softly, gazing at the crumpled mess beside me, snoring like a grizzly bear. In hindsight she’s a pretty adorable drunk, despite the havoc wreaked on my home decor. I wrap my arms around her so I can tell if she wakes up. Nothing romantic or sweet, I just want to make sure she doesn’t throw up in my bed.