Falling: A Sexy Alpha Romance Collection
Page 28
“Thank you,” I say to him, and he nods and then goes back to his angry glaring. I’m thinking Van’s a man of little words.
I chat with West and Hunter for another couple of minutes before excusing myself to go to the ladies’ room. When I arrive there, the line is five deep, and I kill time by texting Erin.
Me: At charity event with Jett. You should see him in a suit…
Erin: Shut it. Don’t tell me any more bitch.
Me: LOL
Erin: You heard from your asshole husband again?
Me: Not since he showed at my door two days ago.
Erin: Good. Sorry, gotta go chick. Talk to you later xx
Me: Night xx
I finally reach the end of the line, and five minutes later, I’m heading back out to the table. The sight I’m greeted with when I get there takes me aback. Lennon’s here and he and Van are going head to head over something. Both men are furious about whatever it is.
“You wouldn’t know the meaning of fucking loyalty,” Van spits at Lennon.
“She told me you two were over. How the fuck was I to know she was lying?”
“It’s called friendship, motherfucker. We were friends, and you don’t do that to a friend. You don’t fuck his fiancée behind his fucking back.”
“Do you fucking listen, Van? I didn’t know you were still together.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not good enough. You should have asked me, not her. She wasn’t your fucking friend, I was.”
Jett steps in to try and break them apart because they look like they’re at the point where fists could start flying any minute. “Van, leave it. He’s not fucking worth it.”
Van’s eyes are wild when he looks at Jett. “I told you coming tonight was a bad fucking idea.”
Jett directs his attention to Lennon. “You need to leave. Now.”
Lennon shifts his gaze and stops when he sees me. “Presley? What the hell are you doing here?”
Jett swings around to look between Lennon and me. “You know this asshole?” he demands.
“Yes.”
Before I can explain myself further, Lennon says, “She’s my wife, asshole. Get your fucking eyes off her.”
Jett looks like he’s about to explode with anger. “What the fuck?” he roars at no one in particular, and I’m not sure if he’s directing that at Lennon or me.
Shit, this is a clusterfuck.
“I was your wife,” I correct Lennon.
“You still are,” Lennon says.
“On paper only. Give me six months, and I’ll rectify that.”
Jett interrupts us. Looking at Lennon, he says, “Like I said, you need to fucking leave.”
I nod in agreement and Lennon assesses the situation for a moment before finally doing what Jett suggested.
Van glares at him until he can’t see him anymore and then he says, “Fuck it, Jett, I’m out. Sorry man, but I can’t be in the same room as him or I will fucking punch him, and that’s the last thing we need.” His face is a mask of anger and apology.