12
GARRETT
Had Haley and Wyatt finished dinner?
I glanced at my ancient watch, barely making out the hands in the club’s dim corner I’d hidden myself in. Twisting my arm toward the dance floor allowed strobe lights to help me see the tiny numbers on the watch’s face.
Nine o’clock.
Surely they’d headed home already. Maybe Wyatt had already f****d my Haley. Jealousy over the thought of another man’s hands on her twisted my insides, and I downed the rest of my martini.
Would he hold her afterward, prove himself to be a Prince Charming by snuggling her how she loved, the way I always made her melt against me?
“Fuck.” I muttered a few more curses to myself while stretching my neck side to side in an attempt to ease the tension riding me.
I’d had no intention of scrolling an app for d**k
