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you insane too? He’s always doing stupid shit like this.”

He shrugs. “So he started a bar fight that ended up in ten hospitalizations and—“

“Ky,” I sneer. “These people will press charges.”

Kyson’s golden irises widen then form into slits. “You think?” His palm hits his chest. “Holy fuck, we better leave.”

“Shut up, this is serious.”

“Well, that was easy,” Bishop claims behind me, pressing a possessive hand above the curve of my ass. “Ky, gonna need you to punch me in about thirty seconds.”

My eyes practically bulge from my sockets. “What?”

“What did you do now?” Kyson groans. “Dude, this isn’t the trailer park. We’re not—“

“How close is he?”

His best friend quickly glances behind us. “About fifteen yards.”

“You’re up, Em,” Bishop whispers in my ear, his voice fucking delicious and deep. “Play a good damsel in distress. I’ll be back.” Before I can even fathom the words hell no to reach my mouth, he straightens his spine and moves to my side. “Now.”

Kyson wastes no time or asks any questions because he cocks his muscular arm back and slams his fist right into Bishop’s face.

My surprised gasp is mixed with everyone else’s as Bishop dramatically stumbles backward, and Kyson menacingly stalks after him.

My blood burns hot inside my veins at the fact that Bishop couldn’t just follow a simple ass plan that we laid out in this very room.

Spread out.

Find anything useful.

I shove a tranquilizer in his arm, throat, leg, where-the-fuck-ever.

Get William Wamkin.

Not this.

If the cops are called and charges pressed against the Ying and Yang twins, Ledger will lose his entire shit on the squad.

A pair of large hands steadies me as the growing crush of people gathers closer to Bishop and Kyson’s shitshow of a fight.

“This way, Miss,” a male soothes, guiding me back and away from the blood-thirsty savages who want to witness my two idiot co-workers duke it out.

I place a hand on my chest, starting up my role as damsel while I turn to face the man I think Bishop was describing before.

“Are you alright?” he asks me, faux worry laced in his tone.

“Yeah,” I reply, sounding out of breath and widening my eyes in shock like I’ve never seen these boys go at it a million times before. “Oh my God.”

“Let’s get you away from this.” He doesn’t wait for a reply as he escorts me along the side of the room and into the nearest doorway.

As he opens the oak door, I pray to God that Mills, Marty, or Blue aren’t in here snooping, but he doesn’t react, so I take it as the coast is clear.

Stepping inside, he doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he rounds to face me. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes…thank you so much, Mr…”

“Wamkin, but please call me Will. My father is Mr. Wamkin.”

Bingo.

“And you are?”

I notice that he hasn’t let go of my bicep, which to anyone else might not come off as anything at all.

But to me, it hints at a lot of things about him.

That he has no decorum on social distancing and that he prays on the weak. It’s normal to turn on the lights, but it’s fucked up when they’re not on in a room with a stranger.

My personal red flags begin to wave in warning, but since I’m not an ordinary girl, this isn’t something I’m too worried about unless he’s packing a gun.

I didn’t bring one of those with me.

“I’m Amy Grant,” I offer. “Thank you so much for getting me out of there.”

“It’s not a problem. Did you know that man?”

I scoff disgustingly. “Unfortunately. He’s an ex-boyfriend from months ago. Keeps following me around at parties and other gatherings. I have a restraining order against him, but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick.”

“Sounds like you need protection.”

“Are you signing up? You’re just missing the shiny armor and the sword.”

William chuckles, aligning himself with me. “I mean…I’d love to, actually. I saw you the moment you walked in. This dress you’re wearing is…a showstopper, Miss Grant.”

“Just Amy, and thank you. Though it was hard to slip on.” His fingers flinch at my words, more than likely imagining what I look like with it off.

“I can only imagine,” he mutters gruffly before clearing his throat. “Your friend, Brian, came over to me earlier…said that you were too shy to come and speak to me.”

Thank fuck for the darkness because I roll my eyes. Bishop would make it sound like I was incapable of doing anything on my own.

“Brian has a big mouth,” I transmit through gritted teeth.

“I think it’s charming.”

“You do?” Lies. “Well, who knew we’d meet up like this?”

“Not in a million years, but I consider it something magical. Fate even.”

“Oh, you think so?”

He steps even closer to me, smelling of vodka and cigars. “Yeah. Almost like you were destined to walk into my life tonight.”

More like placed but we’ll go with that. 

“I believe in fate.” I take this moment to look up at him, studying what I can from the light coming from the room’s windows to my right.

Sandy blonde hair and a strong jawline, Will has a Zack Morris thing going on about him, and if I was twelve, I’d be melting on the floor.

However, my tastes have changed, and I apparently enjoy torturing myself with men in beards and a lack of uttering two nice things to me in the same conversation.

“Do you?” His flat chest bumps lightly into mine.

“Life is short, and moments like this are fleeting, don’t you think?”

“What about kissing within minutes of knowing each other.”

Oh, Lord. 

I step away slightly, portraying that I’m shy and that I like to wait until at least five dates where I’m wined and dined before giving away an innocent kiss. “I’m not sure. We literally just met.”

“I don’t bite,” he presses, countering my actions. “Unless you like that sort of thing.”

I stay grounded to my spot, allowing him to make his move. Which he doesn’t yet. Apparently, Will isn’t a total creep, and he needs more coaxing.

“I mean…I guess no

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