Page 58 of Running from Drac

Eddie, enjoying every minute of this, leans over. “Little does she know, that Wesley doesn’t fuck just any woman, he’s very particular about who he leads to his bed.”

My eyes widen slightly as they search the dance floor for Wesley. He’s dancing very close to the red-head, hand on her hip, pelvis practically fucking her pelvis.

“Oh, he’s going to fuck that one,” I say loudly. “If for anything else to make Poppy jealous. She could be getting pregnant as we speak.”

Poppy’s head snaps their way, and her mouth slightly clenches.

Oh yeah, she’s definitely getting jealous.

“I’m going to go find the bathroom. If I don’t come back, don’t send out a search party,” Poppy quickly says, moving away from the table just as Wesley begins furiously making out with the girl he’s dancing with.

“How long do you think it will take her to realize she’s secretly in love with him?” Eddie questions.

“If she is, she’ll never admit it. She’s never going to give him a chance, unfortunately. It would take a miracle for that to happen. Like Cupid would have to come down and shoot her with a million of his arrows before she’ll ever admit her attraction for him out loud.”

The laugh that belts out of Eddie is infectious. But he knows I’m right. I’m always right. His fingers delve into my hair, looking at me with nothing but love in his eyes.

“I think Wesley and I have a lot in common.”

“How so?” I question.

“We both have a woman we’d do anything for. Poppy could try to kill that man and he’d still step in front of a bullet for her. Her disdain for him is no match for his devotion to her.”

“Maybe one day she’ll change her mind, but something catastrophic would have to happen first. Speaking of which,” I say, turning toward him. “What was up with you leaving the table like that earlier? That was really fishy, Eddie. Is everything okay?”

Again, his eyes search the room nervously, looking everywhere but at me.

“Eddie, what’s wrong? You look like you’re keeping something from me.”

He chews on his bottom lip like it’s the only thing holding him together. His eyes avoid mine, flicking toward the dance floor, then back to his drink before he finally sighs, shoulders sagging with regret.

“I guess I’m just nervous about the wedding. What if you get cold feet?”

“I won’t.”

He looks up, brow furrowed. “But how can you be sure?”

“Because I love you, Eddie. There’s nothing you can say or do that will make me walk away from you again.”

He stares at me for a beat too long. Not like he’s soaking up the words, but like he’s waiting for them to change. They don’t.

“Amber,” he starts, his voice dangerously low. “There’s something I should really tell you before we do this.”

“Okay,” I say gently. “What is it?”

“You know that night we broke up?”

“Which time?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh. His hand goes to the back of his neck, muscles tensing, guilt crawling into the corners of his eyes. “Well, after we broke up I—”

The crowd erupts into terrified screams, just as a body slides across the hardwood, limbs flailing, stopping inches from our table. Chairs screech, drinks spilling everywhere as the music cuts out, the only sound coming from Wesley’s heavy boots as he storms across the room like a rhino charging, fists balled, chest heaving in angry huffs. His eyes burn with pure rage, zeroing in on the guy scrambling to his feet.

The man barely regains balance before Wesley slams a punch into his jaw. The sickening crack echoes like a firework, sending the guy stumbling into a table nearby.

Gasps ripple through the crowd seconds before they start chanting. “Fight. Fight. Fight.” Over and over again.

“Touch her again, and I’ll fucking murder you,” Wesley growls, voice guttural and shaking with fury.