Taming the Storm (The Storm 3)

I throw my arms up just for good measure. A bit of beer sloshes from the glass onto my wrist.

“You’re a lying, cheating son of a bitch, Tom Carter! We’re so fucking over that it’s not even funny! One hundred percent over!”

Tom opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t give him a chance.

I chuck my beer in his face.

The blonde jumps back, avoiding the splash.

It’s then I realize the whole bar is silent. Chaka Khan has stopped singing, and all eyes are on me.

Shit. Fuckity fuck.

I think I might have gotten a little carried away.

Tom drags a hand down his face, clearing the beer away.

Reaching over, I place my now empty glass on the nearest table. “Okay…well, I think it’s time for me to go.”

I give an uneasy smile to the bartender who is staring at me from behind the bar.

Avoiding Tom’s eyes, I turn on my heel and quickly make my way back to the guys. Eyes down, I don’t look up until I reach our table.

The guys are looking at me like I’ve grown three heads, but I catch the knowing smirk on Shannon’s face.

“Um…what the hell was that?” Sonny practically growls at me.

“That was me winning our bet.” I give him a smug smile as I lift my hand to my mouth. I lick the sticky beer droplets from my wrist. “Cough up. I believe you owe me one hundred dollars.”

“Holy shit!” Van laughs. “She totally stung you, man.”

Grinning at me with admiration, Van lifts his hand to me, so of course, I have to high-five him.

Sonny gives us both a dirty look, and then he reaches into his pocket. After pulling out my winnings, he dumps two fifties onto my outstretched hand.

“Nice doing business with you. I’ll see you boys back on the bus.”

Then, I’m out of there lickety-split, ignoring the look Cale is giving me. The one that’s saying, We’ll be having words later.

When I hit the nighttime air, I stop, my heart pounding like a bitch in my chest.

Oh my God! I can’t believe I just did that!

A strangled laugh escapes me.

I start walking again, but the farther from the bar I get, the realization of what I just did in starts to sink in.

I just made a public scene and threw beer in Tom’s face.

People will now think he and I are together.

And Tom is famous. Really famous. Stunts like the one I just pulled are newsworthy.

No, it’ll be fine. I can’t imagine anyone in there being the type to call up the tabloids.

I’m halfway across the parking lot, heading for the bus, when Tom’s voice rumbles out like thunder from behind me.

“What the fuck was that?”

I turn slowly. The fierce look on his face makes me almost buckle under the pressure.

I steel my confidence, keeping my expression neutral. I place my hands on my hips. “You’re welcome,” I say, giving some attitude.

His eyes narrow. “I’m welcome?” He takes a few steps toward me, his long legs eating up the space between us.

I fight the urge to back up.

“Welcome for what exactly? You screaming at me like a banshee in a public bar or for the beer you threw in my face?” He slashes a hand down his beer-soaked T-shirt, which is clinging to his hard chest and thick biceps and—

Focus, Lyla.

“Um…for saving you,” I say calmly. I feel anything but calm. My insides are rattled, and my thoughts are swirling like a storm.

“Saving me? From what?”

I give him a duh look. “From the blonde who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

His face goes from angry to confused and straight back to angry.

“You’re telling me that all that in there was because you thought I needed saving from the hot blonde who was minutes away from sucking my dick?” He takes another seething step closer. “Have you forgotten who I am? I’m not the fucking pope, Lyla! I’m Tom Carter, and it’s well known that I really like hot blondes, especially ones who are more than willing to get down on their knees and suck my cock!” Another step. “And just because you haven’t seen that from me this past week doesn’t make it any less true.”

His words pierce my chest like a knife. I shrink back.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted her.” Jesus, those words hurt. “I thought I was helping. I just…well, it seemed like you didn’t want women all over you, considering what happened with Shannon on the first day, and I bet Sonny—”

Shit.

Those jades of his narrow to slits. “You bet Sonny what?”

I swallow down. “Nothing. I bet nothing.”

I turn to leave, more than ready to chickenshit my way out of this and hightail it back to the bus, but Tom catches my upper arm, pulling me back to him.

“Finish the rest of that sentence.”

“Fine.” I blow out a breath, removing my arm from his hand.

I push my hair back off my face and lift my chin. “Sonny was giving me a hard time, saying that you were going to sleep with that blonde and I’d have to give up my bed so that you could use it to do…whatever with her.” I wave my hand, trying not to choke on the words.

“So, I bet Sonny that you wouldn’t have sex with her because I actually thought you, um…wouldn’t.”

He lifts a brow, which does nothing for my confidence.

“Well, it was just…from things you’ve said to me and the whole Shannon thing and, um…just the way you’ve been in general…so, yeah.” I straighten my back and look him in the eye. “And because of those things, I thought my money was safe…but then you started looking like you were actually going to do something with her and, um”—the words are sticking in my throat—“I, um…didn’t want to lose the bet.” I look away.