Branded

Part 1

BrockThe bourbon was getting warm, the ice had long since melted but I couldn't move. I couldn't leave. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She was trouble with a capital T and for whatever reason, I was the one dragged into making sure she didn't get herself into shit she couldn't get out of. I'd saved her arse more times than I could count, and I'd continue to do so.

Why?

Because I was a fucking sucker for that girl.

Lake fucking Barnes was going to be the death of me. If not from getting me into fights that shouldn't happen, then blue balls.

She was the biggest tease I'd ever met, yet she had absolutely no clue. She didn't know how gorgeous she was, how her smile captivated a whole god damn room, how her laugh turned heads in her direction each and every time. She had no idea that shaking her arse on the dancefloor just as she was doing then was the equivalent of a strip show.

Most hot chicks knew they were hot. Sure, they pretended they didn't but that lie was as fake as the plastic extensions in their hair. Lake on the other hand was the exception, she truly didn't know the effect she had on the male population and that only made me more wary around her. She oozed this sexiness, but deep down under the fluttering eyelashes, and provocative dance moves, she screamed innocence. Well, maybe not innocence. That was probably too strong a word. Naivety. What she thought was harmless fun, was often the opposite of what everyone else thought.

I equally loved and hated that about her though, because she just didn't know when to stop. Her eyes lifted and she scanned the room, looking for someone. Me. I knew it the moment she locked gazes with me as I stood on the edge of the dancefloor. It was our thing. She'd go out with her friends, and I'd be here. It wasn't like we planned it; I just knew her so well. If she wasn't playing pool across town at Cue, she was here.

She grinned at me, a wide, dimple-flashing smile that caused my heart to stutter. I wouldn't smile back. I never did. And when I didn't smile, she raised a challenging eyebrow in my direction. I stared at her and downed the last of my warm bourbon as she swayed her hips to the music.

My buddy Grey came and stood beside me. "Creeper." He chuckled.

"You know what she's like," I said glancing down at my empty glass, then over to his full one. He'd gotten her and her friend Amelia out of many sticky situations too. I didn't know what it was about these girls, but we couldn't help ourselves. I pointed at Lake and continued, "Fucking watch her."

Grey poured his entire glass down his throat and handed it to me with an eye roll before dancing his way through the bodies on the dancefloor and inserting himself directly between Lake and Amelia. He looked up at me and flipped me off.Arsehole.

I pushed my way through throngs of people standing around the edge of the dancefloor and made my way to the bar. I smelled her before I saw her. She wore a distinct perfume that I'd never smelled on anyone else, and I couldn't get enough of it.

"Hey, arsehole," she greeted me, and I suppressed a smile at the nickname she gave me one night when we were both really drunk and singing to the song Asshole by Dennis Leary. She was the only one that could make me want to smile. "How about you buy a girl a drink?"

"Fuck off," I said, and she laughed, pressing herself closer to me and throwing her arm around my shoulders.

"You know you want to."

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Pssh." She waved me off and turned to the bartender that had appeared in front of us.