The Crystal Warrior

The Crystal Warrior (Chapter 16)

Meow. Terrence had never liked Jai—always had some snide little remark at the ready. He couldn't stand that Jai was by far the better dancer. He'd never understood that Jai would always be the better dancer, because for Jai, dancing wasn't about technical perfection. Jai danced from the heart, and it showed.

"I didn't see you there," she said.

"I know."

He seemed very pleased with himself. Oh God. He'd probably witnessed the whole nasty encounter between Marcus and Wulf. And doubtless he'd had a fun time spreading equally nasty rumors about her studio around the dance community. He hadn't taken it at all well when she'd dumped him and asked Jai to partner her.

"Where is he?" Terrence asked.

Persistent, much? "Why do you want to know about Wulf?"

"So that's his name."

"What's it to you, anyway, Terry?

"Just curious. So where is he?"

"He's busy tonight."

"Oh, yeah? Good for him. How's about we go somewhere private—just you and me—and catch up on old times? You never did thank me properly for buying you that costume."

Wow. Loaded statement. She speared him with a ball-shriveling glare. "How's about we don't, Terry. How's about you get it through your thick head that I'm not interested, okay? How's about that?"

"For fuck's sake, Chalcey. It was only a suggestion. No need to get your panties in a wad."

"Go away, Terry." She couldn't deal with this right now. She waved to snag the bartender's attention and downed her shot, thumping the empty glass down on the bar with enough force that she wobbled atop the barstool.

Terrence grabbed her upper arm, his fingers pressing into her skin hard enough to bruise. She gave him her best evils. "Get your hand off me. Now. Or you'll lose it."

He ignored her request. "Don't be like that, Chalcey. You and me. We were good together, right?"

The bartender materialized with the shots. "This guy bugging you?" he asked, searching Chalcey's face.

Terrence released her with a scowl and chugged his beer.

"Yep." She rubbed her arm. "He's bugging me. I seriously wish he'd piss off and leave me alone."

The bartender gave Terrence the fish-eye. "You heard the lady. Piss off."

Terence bristled. He'd never appreciated being told what to do. Even the slightest hint that his footwork or arm positioning wasn't up to scratch would set him off. "You work here, right? You got no right to interfere with a private conversation." He curled his lip at the bartender, eyeing him like he was inferior for working the bar.

The bartender polished a glass with his towel and shot Terrence a "don't mess with me if you know what's good for you" glare. "It's my place, bud. I can do what the fuck I like. You wanna make something of it?"

The testosterone levels skyrocketed. God. Couldn't she even have a quiet drink without drama? Chalcey downed both shots in quick succession.

Another guy eased on up and clamped a hand on Terrence's shoulder. "Reckon it's time you hit the road, buddy."

"Yeah?" Terrence shrugged off the hand and rounded on the newcomer. "Says who?"

The guy flashed an ID of some sort and merely stood there, rock-solid, letting his ID speak for itself.

Terrence held up both hands and backed away, all belligerence and cocky arrogance punctured. He tried a smile on for size, but it only looked sickly. "Didn't mean no harm." He jerked his chin at Chalcey. "She's a looker, right? Can't blame a man for trying, right?" He turned on his heel and fled the bar, barreling through the door so fast, he nearly assed over.