So Bad (Bad Boy Next Door #1)(7)

He’s not getting off that easily. I grab the drink and rush behind him. “Hey, Paul!”

He turns and I toss the contents into his face. It splashes off and drips down his golf shirt. Paul swipes a hand over his eyes, his mouth a hard, thin line. His fists clench and he steps toward me.

Crap.

I brace for impact.

Danny grabs me and shoves me aside. He pulls back his fist.

Paul lunges into the punch. Maybe he doesn’t even realize I’m not there now. One pop and he’s on his butt, rubbing his jaw.

Danny stands over him. “Didn’t your momma teach you it isn’t nice to drug the ladies?”

Paul crab crawls backward a few feet and flips over, pushing himself up. He shakes it off, wipes his face with the back of his arm, and threads his way through the crowd. He doesn’t even look back.

The people in the immediate vicinity stare. Heat creeps from my chest to the top of my head. I slink to the table and grab my purse off the chair. It takes a few minutes to get across the bar to the ladies’ room, but I manage to do so without looking up.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life.

I push through the door, past the girls at the sink, to lock myself in a stall, leaning against the cool metal. The door swishes open and the volume rises for a moment as music floods in. Then it’s quiet.

Good. Now I can be alone in my mortification.

I inhale, hold it, count to ten, and let it out by increments.

“So, you really know how to pick them, eh, Moan-uh?”

My shoulders droop in defeat and I let the rest of my breath out in a huff.

Great. Exactly what I need.

“You followed me into the bathroom?”

He rattles my stall door. “How else are you going to say thank you?”

I pull the latch and slip past him. “You could’ve waited until I finished. I just needed a minute.”

His cocky grin makes me hate his face.

“Oh. I didn’t realize I’m supposed to save you and wait for you. Pardon me.”

I wash my hands and splash water over my cheeks, trying to cool the blush still burning me up.

When I raise my head I focus on the mirror. Danny stands behind me. His gaze holds mine for the longest moment in history.

I swallow my embarrassment. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping me from getting hurt. And for decking that jerk.” I turn to him, throwing my hands up in question. “Happy now?”

“You’re welcome.”

And he walks out. Just like that.

There is something seriously wrong with him. There has to be.


*

The heat rises off the pavement outside The Garage. The cab is taking forever to get here. I check my phone again, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

“Mo! Hold up. I’ll give you a ride,” Danny calls.

I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now.

God, I’m such an idiot. I really could’ve ended up—well, who knows what Paul had planned? If it hadn’t been for Danny—it was Danny of all people who saved me from—whatever would’ve happened.

A yellow cab pulls up. I step off the curb. Déjà vu overruns me as an arm comes around my waist. His deep voice whispers, “What are you doing?”

I wriggle out of his hold. “What are you doing?”

A skinny brunette—not the hallway-screw either, a new one—runs her hand down Danny’s forearm. “Come inside, Dan. We’re missing the fun.”

He rolls his eyes. “So, go back in.”

“But, Dan—”

Danny steps to the cab and tosses a twenty into the window. “She’s got a ride. Thanks anyway.”

I try to grab the cab’s rear door handle, but my knuckles drag along the smooth surface of the car’s door as I completely miss. I focus on my fingers as though they’re attached to someone else’s hand. When I move them in front of my face, they echo.

Can fingers echo?

The cab speeds away. “What the heck?”

“I said I’ll take you home. Come on.”

A ball of frustration gathers in my chest. “Who do you think you are? You can’t tell me what to do.”

The chick puts her hands on her hips. “See, Dan? She must have other plans. Come on, I’ll show you a good time.”

“Chrystal—Chrissie—” Danny snaps his fingers twice, glaring at her. “Christy—whatever your damned name is, that’s enough. I told you I have shit to take care of. We’ll catch up some other time. Or not.”

My cab’s taillights disappear down the street as I pull out my phone to call another.

Chrystal-Chrissie-Christy pouts, but finally crosses her arms and stalks back into the bar.

Danny snatches my phone out of my hand and hangs up on the cab company lady who just answered. “You don’t need that. You have a ride.”