Page 89 of Sugar

Snaking an arm around my waist, his large hand splayed just under my breast was searing and possessive. As was the harshness in his voice when his low, gravelly voice bit out, “Watch yourself, Jerry.”

The other man lifted his hands in a placating surrender, but there was an odd mix of amusement and loathing in his expression. He didn’t get the chance to say more when Easton bodily propelled me to the exit without so much as a glance to our hosts.

Once we were out in the entryway, I extricated myself from his grip. Or tried to. I avoided meeting his eyes as I gestured behind me. “I need to use the restroom if you want to say your goodbyes.”

It wasn’t a lie. The drive home would be long without the added Saturday night traffic we were sure to hit. Since I was no longer in the mood to stop for a burger or extend my night with Easton in any way, I would need to go before we left.

And possibly check for a window to slink out of like his dirty little secret.

He tried to catch my chin, but I dodged him. His voice held the same confusion as his expression. “The fuck?”

I took a retreating step backward.

And he took an even larger advancing step forward. “What’s going on?”

“Like I said, bathroom. Go say goodbye.”

“I’ll wait here.” Only he wasn’t waiting there. When I took another backward shuffle, he followed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to accompany me into the bathroom with the way he hovered.

The jerk.

Offering one of those tight, awkward smiles to another couple who was making their hasty escape, I kept my voice low and my expression locked down before it broadcast my inner thoughts for me. “I’m not going to talk to anyone. I won’t say anything embarrassing. You’re fine to take your eyes off me for two seconds.”

I might’ve been trying to not make a scene, but Easton clearly didn’t care. His voice carried without a hint of discretion. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh,” I hissed, lifting my fingers to press against his loud mouth.

It was his turn to dodge my attempt. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. That’s not how we work, Madeline.”

My cheeks erupted in red heat like the fiery flames of hell themselves were surrounding me. Since he wasn’t going to be quiet, I contradicted my earlier desire for him to stop following me and instead dragged him along down the narrow hall that led to bathrooms and an emergency exit. I still had no intention of telling him what was up. “Fine. Whatever. Wait here if that’s what you want.”

Shockingly, he didn’t trail me into the room. Ready to be done with the night of bad food, dull conversation, and stark reminders, I hurriedly did what I needed and washed my hands before exiting.

“Do you want—” My question of whether he wanted to be polite and say goodbye was cut off when he gripped my upper arms and spun me. Like in Gilded’s hallway, he put his palms flat to the wall to cage me in.

Unlike at Gilded, the positioning stood out and was borderline inappropriate.

He dropped one hand to curve around my throat and used his thumb to tilt my chin up as he dipped his face closer. “Where did those comments come from?”

“Nothing. Nowhere. Are you ready to go?”

“I don’t like repeating myself, and I’m not going to do it again, Madeline. I thought you were upset at that prick, but I obviously pissed you off.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Do you feel like I didn’t defend you?”

“What? No.”

“Because I’m happy to go lay him out anyway, but especially for the way he was looking at you.”

“No, I don’t care about that.”

“Then what?”

“Not—”

Easton’s voice was stern as he ordered, “Tell me what I did.”