World's Worst Boyfriend: A Romantic Comedy Adventure (Fake It Book 3), Carina Taylor [ebook reader online txt] 📗

those ever went out of date or if a booster was needed. I’d have to set up an appointment with my primary doctor in the morning.

A large man elbowed in between me and the barstool next to me. His arm brushed against mine.

“Give me another one.” He slapped his elbow down on the bar and rested his bearded face in his hand. He turned to smile at me. At least, I think that’s what he was doing. I couldn’t see his mouth behind that beard, but it lifted upwards.

The big, young biker next to Zoe leaned down and whispered in her ear. She smiled slyly, then headed toward a hallway that must have led to a back room.

She left me alone at the bar with a giant’s grandson and some troll’s great uncle. The bartender slapped a large mug of beer down on the counter in front of the older man. The bearded man belched as he stood up straight again. His arm bumping into me as he tipped the beer back.

“Sorry about that, sugar.” He winked, then tipped the beer upside down and tried to get the majority of it in his mouth. He failed. It must not have been his first beer of the night. The beer splattered down the front of his vest and onto his t-shirt.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed. I popped open my purse and pulled out my emergency wipes. “Here, let me help.”

I shoved a wipe into his large hand, then used a second one to stop the beer from spilling off the counter onto my shoes.

The bar fell eerily silent as I tried to focus on cleaning up some of the beer off the man—and off of me where it had splattered on my arm. I glanced over my shoulder. The cowboys were busy looking anywhere but at us. The bikers were all turned toward me, watching as I wiped some excess beer off the man’s hand before it could drip on me more.

A hand grabbed my arm and jerked me out of my seat. It was a good thing I’d already had a firm grip on my purse.

It was the young biker who’d bought Zoe a drink. And he was dragging me toward the back room. “Darlin’, I told you when you came to meet me that you shouldn’t try and make me jealous.”

I tried to pull out of his hold, but the rest of the room erupted into chuckles, and no one came to my assistance as he dragged me down a long, dark hall. He opened the door to a supply closet and pushed me inside. This was starting to become a habit.

Screaming would have been pointless. No one here was going to help me.

I frantically searched for my small canister of pepper spray in the depth of my purse.

But instead of him attacking me, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call as he crossed one leg over the other and leaned back against the door.

“Hey. Are you almost here?”

I couldn’t hear the other person’s words, but there was a loud, angry tone.

“Yup. You deal with her or I will.”

He hung up and slipped his phone into his pocket. I stepped back. It wasn’t scary to be locked in a supply closet with Fletcher. But with a stranger right now—I was terrified.

“I need to get you out of here.” He ran a hand over his face.

I slowly slipped my hand into my purse, searching around for something that could be used as a weapon. A hand latched onto my arm—hard.

“Please don’t tase me. I promise I’m helping you.”

“I’m in a closet,” I squeaked out.

“I know Fletcher.”

That was…not what I was expecting. “Oh.”

“My name’s West. And this is not the place for you and your friend to be. Especially tonight. Go somewhere else. Please. Anywhere.”

“Happily. All you have to do is step out of the way and I’ll be gone so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

He let go of my arm and shook his head. “He shouldn’t have started dating you.”

“What does that mean?” I jerked my shoulders back and glared at him.

He looked me up and down, but oddly enough, it didn’t feel threatening or creepy, more like he was making an observation. “You’re a complication.”

With that, he opened the door and motioned for me to follow him into the hall. I turned to go through the main room, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. He practically dragged me down the hall and out a side exit that led directly to the asphalt parking lot.

The night sky was clear, showing off the bright Oregon stars.

“Stand right here, and don’t move. I’m going to get your friend.” He stepped back inside and closed the door. There wasn’t a handle on this side of the door, so I couldn’t have opened it to follow him back inside if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to. My idea of breaking out of the box and not being predictable had been the worst thing I’d ever thought of.

I liked my life. And ending up murdered in a seedy bar wasn’t something I’d ever wanted to accomplish.

Less than thirty seconds later, the door opened again, and the man stepped outside holding Zoe’s hand.

Zoe, who still seemed oblivious to any danger. Something had worried this guy, and if he really was a friend of Fletcher’s—though I didn’t know how—he was probably looking out for our best interests. Fletcher was picky about his friends.

“So, where are we going?” Zoe asked in an overly cheerful voice.

A familiar car lurched to a stop directly in front of us.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” West must have seen the same furious look on Fletcher’s face that I did as he stepped from the car.

“What a great idea!” I agreed, all of a sudden preferring this stranger to what I knew was going to be an irate Fletcher.

West smirked. “Good luck.”

“Saidy Perez. Get in the damn car.” Fletcher’s voice was