Dump and Chase (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 1) - Page 40

“I’m not getting it for you,” he says as he waves down the waitress obnoxiously. “I’m doing it for Wes, so that you don’t get up and rip off his head to piss down his throat.”

I give him a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh. Wait, are you not feeling her?” he asks, nodding toward where Shelli and Wes are now salsa dancing. It makes my blood boil with how close his hands are to her ass. I don’t understand these feelings. I don’t need that kind of headache. I don’t even need to care, but for some really annoying reason, I fucking do.

“Not at all,” I say as dryly as I can. “I just think he’s stupid for doing that with the boss’s daughter.”

Boon looks over at them, his head tilting before he looks back at me. “I don’t think he cares, and I wouldn’t either. That girl is fire.”

He’s absolutely right.

Boon flashes me a grin that shows his two front teeth missing. He forgot his falsies but, eh, I don’t think he cares. When the waitress comes back, he pulls her into his lap and she giggles, kissing his cheek. I guess they know each other, or they will know each other by the time the night is over. I glance over at Shelli, and her hair has come down. It’s falling like a thick, beautiful curtain along her back, swaying as she laughs.

“Shots!”

Willy comes over with a tray, and Shelli drops down beside me. She goes to hand me a shot, but I shake my head. “I’m good.”

She eyes me, but Boon takes my shot. “Shit. If he isn’t going to shoot, I will!”

Everyone laughs, but Wes looks toward me. “You done?”

“Gotta make sure you idiots get home.”

“Aww, BB turned into our DD,” Wes teases. I flash him a playful dark look as everyone chuckles and teases me.

“BB?” Shelli asks, and then she glances over at me. “Oh, boogie butt! That’s awful. Who told them that was your nickname?”

Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. It’s hard to be upset with her. Though, I have no right. She is nothing to me. She’s just really hot, and it’s pissing me off that someone else is touching her. “Tate.”

“So rude!”

“Agreed.”

She takes the shot, shaking from the aftertaste. She then takes a long pull of her beer.

“Better slow down there, Adler.”

She looks back at me. “I know how to handle my liquor, BB.”

Her grin is hypnotizing, and soon I’m smiling back at her. “My apologies.”

She takes another long pull, and I admire her profile. It’s so round, sweet. Like a cherub’s. When she glances back at me, I look down at my hands.

“So, are you excited for our shindig tomorrow?”

I snort. “So excited.”

She laughs. “Right? It’s gonna be so embarrassing.”

“Absolutely.” I then lean in and chuckle softly. “Remember that party my mom threw for Stella, and she made me dress up like a damn fish?”

Shelli’s face lights up as she giggles loudly. “Flounder!”

“Not funny.”

“So funny! You had to wear those blue tights!” Her laughter is intoxicating as she leans back, shaking her head. “You were the grumpiest Flounder ever.”

“You would be too if you were seventeen in a fish costume.”

She snorts. “But you were so adorable.”

I shake my head. “Whatever. I looked stupid.”

She leans into me, her chin in her hands. “I didn’t think so.”

I’m lost in her blue depths. “You and Wes a thing?”

Why did I ask that? Why in the hell did I ask that?

Her brows furrow as her lips twist. “Wes? Wesley?”

“Yeah,” I somehow say, and am I not in control of my lips? What the hell?

“No,” she laughs and shakes her head. “We’re very good friends. We’ve known each other since pee wee travel hockey. He’s more a brother than anything.”

Oh. “Cool.”

“Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Wondering why?”

I shrug. “You two seemed mighty close.”

“We were dancing.”

“Closely.”

She eyes me. “Why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t,” I say with a shrug. “Just making an observation.”

Her lips curve into the most sinful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not only her lips that hit me straight in the gut—no, her eyes are dark and full of everything naughty. “Seems to me that observation was made out of a bit of jealousy. Do you not like me dancing with Wes?”

“I don’t care. You do you.”

She leans on her hand again, her eyes locking with mine. “You’re an awful liar.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I’m not lying.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she says, her lips pursing. “Would you like to dance with me, Aiden?”

She says my name so slowly and with so much heat, I choke on my tongue. “I don’t think that would be smart.”

“Who cares?”

Her eyes are challenging mine, leaving me completely breathless. I want so badly to wrap my arms around her and move against her.

“Shell, come on. This is my jam!”

She doesn’t even look to where Wes is calling her. Her eyes are on me. “Last chance.”

Tags: Toni Aleo Nashville Assassins Next Generation Romance
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