Free Love Unexpected (Navy Love Series Book 2) by JC Santo Page B

not my concern. I’m here for a fun night out with the girls.
    With that mindset, I place my drink order and keep them in my peripheral vision while I wait. I can’t get over how uninterested he is with her. She, on the other hand, looks as though she’s ready to hike up her short skirt and pee on him to claim her territory.
    Was I that desperate with him?
    Reed has been too preoccupied with his phone and his date that is grinding her ass against his crotch to notice me, thank goodness. The cute bartender sits the round of drinks down in front of me, takes my cash, and leaves me with a wink. I feel as though I’m in the clear, escaping the view of Reed unnoticed, but unfortunately, Karma is an asshole, and Ashley chooses the exact moment I turn away from the bar, with all three drinks in my hands, to holler out my name and bump into me, spilling said drinks all down my front.
    The spectacle is enough to draw the attention of most of the people around us. I’m willing to bet Reed’s as well.
    My attention is pulled away from the mess that covers my shirt and jeans by the cute bartender offering me a hand towel to wipe myself off with. I can already feel the stickiness setting in on my arms and chest from the sugary ingredients, but I try my best to clean it all off. When I turn to hand it back to him, I no longer see Reed and Bimbo Barbie sitting there.
    Maybe he saw me and wanted to avoid an awkward moment. Maybe he took her home to continue her grinding. That thought makes me feel nauseous.
    With all that has happened in the last ten minutes, my buzz has vanished and all I want to do is go home. My mind's made up—it’s time for me to leave.
    Ashley, the poor drunk girl, tries to argue with me to stay, but when that same good looking bartender distracts her by complimenting her, I know it's my golden opportunity to sneak away.
    I turn and run into a wall of hard, sculpted chest. Without looking up, I know who this chest belongs to. I've seen this chest naked, I've raked my nails down it in the heat of the moment, and I've laid my cheek on it after an intense round of sex. This chest, belongs to The Charlie Reed.
    Looking up is the absolute last thing I want to do, but judging by the grip on my arms that hasn't let go, I know I have to face him.
    I expect anger or ridicule, or something along those lines when I look at his face. What I don't expect to see is compassion.
    Standing there staring at each other, the sexual tension, the unresolved issues, the intense desire we have for one another, they all swirl through the air. We're stuck in a trance, mesmerized, silently taking this moment to apologize for all the hell we've put each other through these past few months. I feel like at any moment he could lean down and kiss me like I've been wanting.
    “Tegan, I—” His sultry voice stops and both of our eyes move down to his chest where a set of manicured nails is now staking her claim.
    Reed’s hands fall from my arms. He places one on his hip and the other begins running through his hair, a sign of stress he’s picked up from my brother-in-law. All the while, skankalicious still has her hand on him, oblivious to the fact that she’s interrupting something.
    She finally realizes her prize for the night is caught up with another girl, and the claws quickly come out.
    “Reed, baby, I thought we were gettin’ outta here?” She eyes me up and down.
    While I'm no ten, I won't be intimidated by this bimbo. I watch as she assesses me, knowing damn good and well that she’s silently judging every aspect of me right now.
    Jokes on her, though, because I know my jeans, ballerina flats, and bohemian-style tank top may not be the sexiest thing to wear to a club, and I'm aware that the chances of me taking home a guy like this aren't the highest. That never was my intention for the night. A man is the reason I’m out drinking tonight; the last thing I need to do is find another one. Most men come here looking for her