Sacking The Player

to bumping and grinding with the best of them after three drinks.

Some top 100 radio shit comes on and Jen screams, “This is my jam!”

So of course, I follow her to the dance floor, escaping Keith’s daggered gaze.

Two songs later, I’ve forgotten he’s even here, until I feel him pressing up against me. I’d know his Cool Water cologne any day. I spin around facing him. His eyes are glossed over. He’s drunk. I shake my head in warning as he steps in close and tries to wrap his arms around my waist.

“I don’t like you hanging with Tate,” his tongue clicks on the T.

“You don’t have to like it!” I shout over bass of the music that is thumping in my head and beating through my veins.

He grabs my wrists as I try to pull away. “You know you want me to take you back,” he slurs.

Him take me back? That’s comical. “You have to be shitting me? You cheated! It doesn’t get any more over than that.” I break free and go the bathroom to escape him.

I stand in front of the mirror, hoping that by the time I finally go back out there he’s gone. My hopes are dashed when Keith storms through the bathroom door.

“What the hell, dude? Get out!” I shout at him.

“No,” he spits. “We’re going to get back together, we have to. I can’t live without you, baby.” He grabs me by the back of my neck and forces his lips on mine.

I try to shove him off, but he doesn’t budge. I turn my head and scream, hoping someone comes in and helps me out. “Keith, stop it, let me go!”

Someone barges into the bathroom. The door bounces off the wall. I look up to see Tate glaring at the back of Keith’s head.

“I saw him following you in here. The bouncer wasn’t budging from his spot, so I found Tate here,” Courtney interjects from behind him.

I say a silent thank you that Tate happened to be around.

“Not letting her go,” Keith argues. His fingers dig harder into my skin. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes in pain and embarrassment.

“You really don’t have a choice. Remove your hands from her, or I’ll remove your hands,” Tate snarls at him. His muscles are bulging under the sleeves of his tee. Damn. He’s lethal and menacing when he’s angry. A vein pulses in his neck.

Keith shoves me away as Tate steps closer, and I crash into the corner of the sink. Shit, that’s gonna bruise my hip.

“You can’t have my girl, man.” Keith has his fists clenched ready to throw down.

This is getting nasty.

“She’s not yours, she’s mine.” Tate stakes his claim. It’s primal and fucking hot.

Hearing him say I’m his does something to me and warmth pools in my lower belly.

The guys are circling each other in the crowded space.

Why do I suddenly feel as if I’m watching cavemen fight right now? I look over to Courtney who looks as if she just had an orgasm. She’s grinning and bouncing on the balls of her feet. I shake my head.

“Well, I don’t want her with you,” Keith states as though he gets a say.

“Well, too damn bad, she is, and you don’t get a say in it.” Tate cracks his knuckles.

Keith swings but misses. Tate then sucker punches him right in the face and he goes down. Wow. Tate knocked him on his ass…for me. I don’t know what to think.

Courtney is now hyperventilating, she always gets hot and bothered when men fight, especially when they fight over a woman.

Keith scrambles back up and puts his weight into Tate’s shoulder as Tate continues to jab him in the ribs.

Shit. I nearly shriek when they come in my direction. I need to move. Fast.