Love Her Wilde

Those "Summer" Nights: Asher

If looks could kill, I would've been dead thirty times over before we even finished dinner. Brock apparently wasn't too keen on watching his girl hang off me like she was the sloth to my tree. Sure, Dylan had quite blatantly turned her flirting up a couple notches, but I didn't mind. She was smiling and happy, and that's really all I cared about.

By the time we reached the second bar of the evening, Brock's gaze practically burned me. Even when I wasn't paying attention, I could feel it on me. And it only got worse with every smile Dylan shot my way. This dude was obviously about to snap, and I, for one, wasn't sure there was any way to avoid it. He was no longer staring at Dylan, or just at Dylan. I occasionally caught him looking at me as if he couldn't wait to tear me limb from limb. I'd told Dylan I'd fight him if I had to, but I was beginning to doubt I could take this dude. He looked like a caged animal, just waiting for me to slip up, so I made my best attempt to steer clear. I'd stand as far away as possible, avoided eye contact with all my might. I even tried to cool Dylan and her rampant flirting, but it didn't work. She'd bat those big ol' eyes at me and I'd forget Brock was even in the room. Eventually, while the girls and Shayne were tearing up the dance floor, I got so tired of being leered at, that I excused myself to get some air, but Brock was hot on my heels.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he practically growled as he followed me out onto the patio.

"What're you talking about, man?" I asked with an exasperated sigh.

"You know what I'm talking about, pretty boy," Brock snarled shoving my chest hard enough I stumbled back into one of the metal tables. "Stay the fuck away from my girl!"

"She's not your girl!" I shouted back. "She wants NOTHING to do with you. She's made that perfectly clear."

"I know pieces of shit like you," Brock stated through gritted teeth. I noticed the front incisor was silver as it glinted in the dim patio lighting. "This is all a game to you. The popular jock making the class dork think she's got a chance..."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you kidding? Have you seen her? If the class dork looks like that, I woulda done chess club over hockey every day of my life. Go fuck yourself, man. I don't answer to you... and neither does she." 

"Back off, Wilde. I'm warning you."

"Or what?" I snapped, rising to my full height, which was a solid four inches above Brock. Unfortunately for me, he didn't exactly look intimidated. "What the fuck are you gonna do about it?"

"Oh, pretty boy. You have no idea what I'm capable of," he grinned a bit frighteningly. "Watch your back."

"I'm terrified," I mumbled with a roll of my eyes.

"You really should be. We all didn't grow up in penthouses, kid. Some of us had to claw our way up. It ain't all silver spoons and inheritances."

"You don't know shit about my life, so stop."

"I know that you just see her as a challenge. I know she's just some vacation fun for you, cuz Dylan Harper sure ain't the girl you give up your whole life for."

I shrugged and took a swig from the beer bottle in my hand. "Maybe she isn't to you... but some of us, those that have more brain cells than a used baseball bat, might see things a bit differently."

"Are you seriously saying you're going to walk away from your comfortable, little upper crust life for HER? Come on, man. No one's buying that."

"Good thing I don't care what you fucking think."

I didn't, but... was I? If this shit with Dylan kept going, which at least some part of me wanted it to, my entire world would crumble around me. Everything I knew, everything I was used to, everything I worked for. It would all be taken away in one fell swoop. Was I really ready for that? I couldn't really say. We didn't know each other all that well, but if we were even going to have a chance to...