Drift Heat (The Drift Series Book 1) by Adrian R. Hale

Author:Adrian R. Hale [Hale, Adrian R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Adrian R. Hale
Published: 2016-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-one

The post-competition dinner and night out has started out on point. The thrill of our team gaining a top-of-the-podium win is contagious and has all of us hyped up and acting a fool. We are tearing up a dive bar not far from the racetrack and getting lots of attention from fans and other teams who showed up, while annoying the regulars.

I know I promised not to dance around Wyatt and Griffin after last week’s fiasco, but I can’t resist. I have to let go and have fun with the whole team. I have all five of my guys crowded around me on this packed little dance floor. Even Ryan, who prefers to sit back in a booth, is cutting loose and showing us his not-so-killer moves. I’m making a very strong attempt to not end up dancing with Griffin or Wyatt, but they’re each trying to make it happen. I’ve had to shoot Griffin a few looks when his hands got grabby and made themselves comfortable on my ass. He headed to the bar a few minutes ago, and I haven’t seen him since.

But I’m looking now, and maybe I shouldn’t have. I feel my easy smile slip from my face as green-eyed jealousy settles heavily in my stomach.

Griffin has his own sandwich going that doesn’t include Wyatt or me. He’s the luscious center as two leggy brunettes dance up on him. I feel my face grow red-hot as anger builds up inside of me. No. Just, no. I start to head over there to pull the skanks off of him, but stop myself and swallow down my bitterness before I’ve made it two steps.

He’s not yours, Shelby. You were the one who insisted you continue doing what you do when you’re not fucking. I have no claim on him, and he has none on me. Instead of heading toward Griffin, who seems to be really enjoying himself, his hands wandering down the tight body of the girl in front of him as I watch, and head to the bar instead. I had told myself I wouldn’t drink too much tonight, but fuck that shit. There’s no way I can be sober and watch this go down.

The attentive bartender is my new best friend as he quickly serves me two shots of tequila and mixes up my vodka-Mas Boost. It all goes down the hatch, burning and turning my belly into a furnace that wars with the hot anger I’m trying to drown out. Or is it cold jealousy? That green-eyed bitch is not my friend, and I need to learn to lose her if I plan to make this no-strings situation actually work.

I was naive to think Griffin wouldn’t welcome any and all attention from drift groupies, fans, or any woman who finds him attractive, just because we’re sleeping together. Who am I to stop him, even if the thought turns my stomach to a nauseous, angry ball of worms? But if that’s how he wants to play it, I’m game.

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