“And you’re not?”
“Fuck, no!”
“Then what about Sarah?” I ask suspiciously.
“What about her?”
“It seems a little too coincidental that you both have been fighting over the same girl, girls.”
He laughs, and I glower unamused.
“Portia was an adolescent fantasy. Sarah’s a freak in bed,” he says with a shrug.
“Really?”
“Yes, really, believe me, I don’t give two shits about who Theroux dates,” he says with a curl of his lip. “Why are you, jealous?”
Snorting, I turn to look around as we pull up to our destination. I didn’t sense a single undertone to Hayden’s words, which only means he’s not competing for the girl. But what about Colt?
And Nate? Shit.
A sea of cars surrounds us, parked in neat rows, before an abandoned warehouse that looms over us menacingly and provides the only light by which to see in the pitch-black lot.
Stepping from the car, I hear cheers emanating from inside and look at Hayden curiously. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
“You’ll see,” he says with another smirk, to which I flip him the bird when he passes, and he chuckles under his breath.
Scrambling after him with a few choice words, we walk through the maze of cars to a set of double doors closed tight with two burly dudes standing guard.
Hayden greets them with a manly chin nod and slaps some cash in their hands. With a similar chin nod, the other opens the door, and we slip inside.
The place is packed, people everywhere, all facing a ring in the center of the space, where two guys are going at it while the crowd roars.
Jesus, did he bring me to an underground fighting ring? Curiously, I gaze around.
Guys off to the side accept money as people place bets, shouting over the din. Against another wall is a makeshift bar, constructed of simple two by fours and a flat board, the line for drinks long.
People wander by with multicolored hair, faux hawks, mohawks, and enough tattoos to keep a place in business for years. Chicks in bathing suit tops and skinny jeans wander around in stilettos, hanging off of dudes with arms the size of my thighs.
The announcer blares something through the speaker, and the crowd goes wild, screaming and screeching loudly. Hayden leads me toward a corner where I spy Dirk hanging with a chick on his arm, George beside him, and Ramie wearing a cute tube top and painted on jeans.
I feel a little underdressed, but I was hardly in a partying mood when Hayden picked me up. I guess my outfit will have to do. Thankfully, I at least touched up my makeup, even though my hair is a wild halo around my face.
Dirk spies us, approaching, and his eyes grow wide before narrowing in thought, and because where Dirk is, Colt is usually not far behind, I look around nervously, searching for his brooding form in the crowd. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved when I don't spy him in the crush.
“This is a bad idea,” Dirk murmurs when we arrive, giving Hayden a grim look, “Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”
“Moving things along,” Hayden says with an evil smirk.
I glance between them, sure I’m the topic of their conversation, but I’ve no clue why this is a bad idea and what the fuck Hayden is moving along.
“What’s going on?” I ask, stepping between them.
“You didn’t tell her?” Dirk asks incredulously.
“Tell me what?” I ask, but Dirk’s face just drops into a mulish expression, and Hayden grins evilly at me.
“What?” I demand, but neither give me the time of day, and I turn away, walking toward Ramie, who’s eyeing Hayden like a piece of candy.
She gives me a nod and turns her head away, but I spy the faint blush suffusing her pretty features.
“He’s a ho,” I mutter, stopping next to her and turning to face the ring.
Now that Ben has virtually disappeared, Ramie is presumably a free agent. It’s nice to see she’s no longer pining over him because he’s a dick, except I’m not sure Hayden is a step up, although so far, he doesn’t seem the type to hit a girl.
Then again, what do I know? I’m not exactly winning any awards in the dating department either.
Turning my attention away, I watch as two guys go at it, really pounding away at each other. I’m not sure I’m enjoying the sport as I wince in sympathy when the smaller of the two gets a sharp kick to the face, although I can say I admire the sheer beauty of the movement as his opponent takes him out.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim when he turns our way, and I spy his form full-on.
He’s ripped, like his muscles have muscles, and they gleam with sweat as he raises his arms over his shoulders with a grim expression. He’s got a sharp face, with dark hair, pretty dark eyes, and kissable plush lips, and I blush to the roots of my hair when he spots me in the crowd and gives me a wink.
Chuckling beside me, Ramie says, “Slow down there. You’ve already got Colt and Hayden hot after your ass. Do you have to take Diem too?”
“Diem?” I breathe, ignoring the ache in my chest when she mentions Colt.
Obviously, I don’t have Colt, he dumped me for Sarah, and despite his proclamation earlier, I’m starting to think the only reason he cares is because of Hayden and maybe Nate.
“Down girl, wipe the drool off your face before your man sees you lusting after this one,” she says, closing my jaw gently.
Turning to her, I say, mulishly, “My man?”
“Yes, Finn. Colt’s been your man since you showed up at that stupid school and threw him for a turn. He’s been obsessing about you ever since. Do you think he puts that much effort into anyone else? Shit, he can’t take his eyes off you when you’re around and acts like a wounded fucking animal
