Chapter Ten #2
Serena glances up just then, like she feels my eyes on her from across the bar. She holds my stare for a long moment, her cue stick resting against her thigh, her eyes so soft it knocks my world out of orbit.
Lucas notices. "You see that?" He jabs me in the ribs with an elbow. "Women don't look at you like that if they don't love you. Just saying."
Jasper strides toward us before I can come up with a response, grinning from ear to ear. "Dace owes your girl his right nut and two g's. Full disclosure, but I think she fully intends to take the nut."
"Jesus Christ," I groan.
Lucas just barks laughter, slapping me on the back.
I haul myself to my feet to go rescue Dace. Serena is a savage. She damn well may take his nut just on principle. Before I'm even halfway across the bar, she blows me a kiss and then disappears down the hall where the bathrooms are located in the back.
I'm not sure if that's an invitation or not, but fuck it. I plop our drinks down on our table and turn in that direction, more than happy to fuck her in the bathroom, a dark alleyway, the hallway…wherever she wants it.
The bar isn't busy, but it's loud enough that I don't hear the argument at first. I only pick up on it when I hear Serena's voice, followed by some guy's drunken growl and a louder shriek.
I'm moving before my brain even catches up.
I find Serena near the restrooms, boxed in by two drunk assholes and a blonde in a cheap, skintight dress. The woman's voice is that shrill, nasally register that sets my teeth on edge. She's poking Serena hard in the shoulder, jabbing at her with a manicured claw.
"Are you even listening, you pathetic slut?" she says, her eyes glittering with hatred. "The way you throw yourself at the whole team in front of him is disgusting. Austin deserves better."
Serena's body is rigid, her hands clenched at her sides. Her smile is all ice. "Aww. Does it keep you up at night knowing that even if he weren't all over me, he still wouldn't fuck you?"
"You think you're so much better—" the blonde hisses.
"Better than you?" Serena cuts in, her voice lethal. "Please. Literally everyone here is better than you."
The bigger of the two guys shoves Serena so hard she almost loses her balance. "Hey," he barks, "don't talk to her like that, you fat—"
I don't think.
I just barrel in, grabbing the guy by the collar and slamming him into the wall so hard the drywall cracks.
The second guy roars, trying to pull me off, but I don't budge. Instead, I swing an elbow back, catching him square in the jaw.
He stumbles, dazed.
The woman's mouth drops open.
"Don't ever fucking talk to my girlfriend like that again," I snarl at the three of them. My voice is so cold it feels like it's coming from someone else.
The woman recovers first. "Girlfriend?" She laughs in disbelief. "She's using you, Austin. We were just trying to help."
Serena steps to my side, her face pale even though her eyes blaze with fury. "Helping him? Please. You're embarrassing yourself."
"Fuck off," the woman spits. "You don't deserve him."
"She's right," I say, my voice flat, my hand still tight around the prick's throat. The way the woman lights up like she thinks I'm talking to her would be funny if it weren't so goddamn ridiculous. "Even if I weren't in love with her, I wouldn't fuck you. I don't do desperate and pathetic."
Serena jerks beside me, and I realize what I just said.
Fuck.
Fuck my life.
It wasn't supposed to come out that way. But I don't even have time to address it right now, not with these three still here.
Thankfully, the woman seems to get the hint. Her eyes fill with tears. "You're an asshole," she shrieks at me, stumbling away.
"If I ever see you near my girl again, you will regret it," I warn the motherfucker I'm still holding by the throat. "We clear?"
He jerks his chin in a nod, silent.
I hold him for a moment longer before releasing him. He stumbles before catching himself with a hand on the wall. He and his buddy stumble after their friend without a word.
The second they're gone, I wrap my arms around Serena, pulling her close. She leans into me like she needs the anchor, her whole body shaking.
"You okay?" I whisper, ready to kill if she says no. I've never been this pissed before. The second that prick touched her, I wanted to kill him.
She nods, but there's a tiny tremor in the movement that she desperately tries to hide. "I'm good," she whispers.
"Serena, I—"
"Can we just go?" she says, not looking at me. "Please?"
Fuck my motherfucking life.
"Yeah, baby," I sigh. "Let's go."
We're halfway down the hall when I spot the guy hiding in the shadows, his phone up, filming everything that just went down.
Serena spots him at the same time, going rigid at my side.
"Fuck," I mutter, taking a step toward him, fully prepared to take his camera and shove it up his ass. I don't get a chance. As soon as I move, he takes off, bolting through the fucking bar like he's running from the police.
Serena just stands there, staring at the floor, so pale and silent I feel my goddamn heart stop.
I don't even stop long enough to explain what the fuck happened to my teammates. I just grab her purse and tell them that we're leaving.
Serena doesn't say a word.
She doesn't make a single sound until we're at my truck, and then she stops, rounding on me.
"You can't do that," she blurts.
"Do what, baby?"
"You can't just hit people, Austin."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, counting to three. It doesn't help.
"I didn't hit him. If I had, he wouldn't have walked away, princess. But I'm not going to stand there and let grown ass men box you in, call you names, and put their fucking hands on you, either."
"You can't just jeopardize your career for me!" she yells.
"Fuck my career," I snarl, so pissed I can't see straight.
Is that what she thinks is important here?
My goddamn career? Fuck that. If anyone wants to penalize me for defending her, they can have my fucking career.
But I'll be damned if I do nothing while some prick touches her.
"If you think my career matters more than you, you're still not getting it, baby. "
"Don't," she whispers, her voice wary as she backs away. "Just…don't."
"Don't what? Don't tell you that I meant what I said in there? Too bad. I'm in love with you." I back her up against the side of my truck, pinning her in place when she tries to push me away. "I love you. So I need you to deal with your shit before I lose my fucking mind."
"Austin, stop," she whispers. The way she says it breaks my heart. She isn't asking. She's begging, pleading for me to back up and give her space, to stop making her feel what she thinks she shouldn't. She's so goddamn scared to let herself fall that she's begging me to give her an out.
Except…I can't. I won't.
"I love you," I murmur, tipping her head back so she has to see me when I say it. "I've been in love with you for weeks already, Serena. I need you to deal with that. It's the only way we move forward."
"Maybe…maybe…" She licks her lips. "Maybe I don't want to move forward."
Even knowing she doesn't mean it, even seeing the fear and panic in her eyes, hearing it hurts like hell. "You don't mean that."
"Maybe I do," she says, frantic now. "Maybe this isn't going to work, Austin. I'm not what you need. Even your fans agree. They all think I'm just a desperate slut who isn't good enough for you. You know what? They're right. I'm not good enough."
"Talk about yourself like that again, and I'll spank your ass right here," I snarl, my temper flaring.
She's allowed to be scared. She isn't allowed to insult herself or think for a single second that she isn't good enough for me.
Hell no. "You're exactly what I need, princess.
In fact, you're the only goddamn thing I need.
" I grab her hand, pressing it to my heart.
"This is yours. Doesn't matter how hard you fight or how far you try to run, it'll still be yours.
Until the day I die, it'll keep being yours. "
"Austin."
"No, Serena. Deal with it." I crowd her back against the truck harder and kiss her like I'm trying to crawl inside her skin.
She fists the front of my shirt, whimpers my name, and then gives up fighting, kissing me with the same wild, bottomless need I feel for her. For one second, her defenses drop. She clings to me like she'll drown if I let her go, her mouth desperate, consuming.
When she finally tears her mouth from mine, we're both gasping.
"Deal with your shit, princess," I growl against her cheek, then step away. I open the truck door and wait.
She stares at me, her mouth working like she's trying to find a comeback—like some smartass comment will save her from what she feels for me. But it never forms.
Instead, she scrambles into the truck, completely silent.
I tip my head back, staring up at the sky, trying like hell to get myself under control. Except…I have none. I haven't since she damn near tackled me at Stu Mancini's and turned my life upside down.
And you know what? If loving her means giving up control, then so be it.