Line Brawl: The Dartmouth Cobras #8 by Bianca Sommerland

Author:Bianca Sommerland [Sommerland, Bianca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

That hadn’t gone at all as planned. Sam bit her bottom lip as she watched Shawn and his new chick walk out of the club. The girl had seemed shy. Like a little mouse, one that would scurry away at the slightest threat.

Not that Sam had intended to come off as threatening, but the girl ruined all her plans. She hoped Shawn wasn’t serious about her, because, damn it, Ian was serious about him.

She wasn’t even sure Ian realized he was completely hung up on the man, but the fact that he brought Shawn up in almost every conversation told her two things. One, no matter what Ian said, he wasn’t ‘fine’ with an open relationship. Or not one quite so open. Maybe if he and Shawn had been in a better place, Ian could handle the asshole doing every cute piece of ass he could find.

They’d been having fun, but when Ian saw Shawn with that chick, Justina, he’d gotten all serious. When Sam asked him what was wrong, White shook his head.

“None of my business. I just wish I knew what the fuck he was doing.”

He hadn’t elaborated, but Sam wasn’t stupid. Justina wasn’t the type a guy like Shawn should mess with. Ian probably wouldn’t have liked seeing the man with anyone else, but he would have accepted someone who looked like a one-night-stand.

Hinting that Justina was just that had blown up in her face. Ian had gone quiet.

And Chicklet was glaring at her.

Which brought Sam to the second fact she’d learned. No matter what Shawn ‘Easy’ Pischlar did, people accepted him.

She wasn’t so lucky.

Taking a sip of her beer, she finally met Chicklet’s eyes. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

“What the fuck were you thinking, girl? You disrespected another Dom—a Master who has earned his place in this club—and spoke down to a young woman you don’t even know.” Chicklet fisted her hand around the rag she’d been using to wipe the bar, looking like it was Sam’s neck she really wanted to get a hold of. “Are you trying to make everyone hate you?”

“Leave her alone, Chicklet.” Ian’s jaw tensed when Chicklet snapped her hard gaze at him. “She’s new at this. I don’t think she meant anything bad by—”

“He speaks! A fucking miracle!” Chicklet tossed the rag and slapped her hands on the bar. “That man is your best friend. If that’s all he is to you now, fine. But you won’t have even that if the two of you don’t figure out what you want. And if you sit back and let this little troublemaker speak for you, you’re not going to have very many friends at all.”

“Fuck this. Come on, Sam. Let’s go.” White slammed his beer down on the bar and took her hand. He paused, glancing back at Chicklet. “I thought I knew what he wanted, but now I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out, but I assumed you were training Sam because you understood her. If you don’t, you need to back off.

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