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Wicked White

Page 15

   


I stuff my wallet back into my pocket and then dip inside. The lights are dimmed low, but the sunken dance floor is lit up with a rainbow of swirling lights that keep time to the beat of the song the DJ’s playing.
The crowd parts on the dance floor and I spot Iris immediately. Her long hair falls in soft waves as she sways her hips to the beat and sings along to the country song that’s being spun. I don’t know the song at all because I don’t listen to that genre of music, but I find myself mesmerized by the hypnotic rhythm as I train my gaze on Iris. Her fucking smile could light up this entire goddamn room.
“Sugar, can I get you a beer?” I turn to the bottle-blond twentysomething waitress who’s balancing a tray against her hip while snapping her gum as she waits on my response.
I nod. “Yeah, Bud Light in a bottle.”
“You got it,” she answers before she scampers off just as quickly as she appeared.
I lean against a nearby column as I continue to watch Iris. She doesn’t know it yet, but it’s so unlucky for her that I’m this interested. Eventually my old life will catch up to me. Jane Ann won’t stop looking for me as long as I’m costing her money, and Iris will be caught in the media crossfire if they find me here hiding with her, and that makes me feel guilty.
It’s cruel of me to be so selfish, but I can’t seem to stop myself from wanting to be near her. I can’t explain it, but I can’t help but be drawn to her. Besides the fact that she’s fucking beautiful, she’s been nothing but kind to me since I arrived, even though I’ve been a complete jackass to her, which makes me want her even more. It’s like she can put up with my moody ass and still see through to the inner part of me that’s good.
Hell, maybe I’m drawn to her so much because I’ve been around such shit people lately that I need something positive in my life. Either way, though, I need to fight the urge to claim her as my own, because she never asked for my crazy life to be brought on her.
A group of guys who seem to be in their midtwenties saunter over to the edge of the dance floor. Most of them seem harmless, cracking jokes and laughing together, just out to have a good time while checking out the girls on the floor, but one catches my eye, making my hair stand up on end.
There’s nothing special about the guy, really. He’s of average height and build, with a baseball cap turned backward covering his shaggy brown hair, but what makes me notice him is how he hasn’t been able to tear his eyes away from Iris. It’s hard to miss Iris because she’s simply breathtaking, and I understand any man would be fucking blind if he didn’t notice her, but he’s fixated on her, studying her, like he’s planning to make a move. I don’t fucking like it.
Unable to stop myself, I ball my fists up at the thought of this douche bag getting to touch her. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from yanking him off her, which is crazy because she might be into the guy. It’s not my place to interfere, only to keep her safe if she needs me.
“Here you go, sugar.” The waitress pulls me out of my anger-filled daze as she hands me the beer.
I lay a ten-dollar bill on her tray. “Keep the change.”
The blond doesn’t immediately go away. Instead, she stands there, biting her lip. “I’m not usually so forward, but I get off in a couple of hours and thought maybe since you’re here alone, you’re looking for a good time. I wouldn’t mind being your just-for-tonight girl.”
I take a long pull from my beer as I debate her offer. Maybe if I take this girl back to her place and screw her brains out, this twisted mess of feelings I’m experiencing over Iris will go away.
But the crazy thing is, the thought of being with this random girl repulses me. I’ve had her type many times in the form of my groupies. The sex is meaningless. Those women were just out to use me. None of them ever really cared about me. They cared about my celebrity and the bragging rights being with me gave them, and I’m not in the mood to deal with that kind of bullshit right now. Besides, my brain is fixated on Iris, and I’d rather have no one if I can’t have her.
“I don’t think so, doll,” I tell her, causing the flirtatious smile to drop from her face and an angry scowl to replace it.
“Your loss, asshole,” she snarls before she turns and walks away.
The short interaction I had with the waitress caused me to take my sights off Iris, but I quickly find her again, only this time she’s not dancing alone.
The same fucker who was stalking her moments ago now has his hands gripping her shoulders as he grinds his crotch into her ass. I try to remain calm and not rush out there like a crazed psycho as I watch the scene in front of me unfold.
At first, it appears that Iris might be having fun as she rolls her eyes at Birdie, who’s dancing in front of her, but then when Iris steps away from the man to distance herself, he refuses to give up, shoving himself right back into her backside.
I stiffen and take a step forward but halt the moment Iris turns and shoves the man away from her. That same spunk she shows me when I’m being a rude jackass is amplified tenfold as she yells at the man to back off.
I didn’t know she could handle herself like that. Maybe I should’ve given her a little more credit for being able to put Jeremy in his place before I jumped in the middle of the situation to defend her. But I’m quickly learning when it comes to her I can’t seem to help myself from defending her.
When the man tries to touch her again, Iris scowls at him before grabbing Birdie by the arm and dragging her to the other side of the dance floor. The guy watches for a long moment like he’s debating following Iris, trying to dance with her yet again, but ultimately decides against it as he rejoins his friends at the edge of the floor.