Chelsea
The first thing I saw as I pushed my way out of the door was Wicked. His face was grim as he came barrelling towards me like a bull towards a red flag.
My hand went to my hair instinctively. I was glad I had brushed it out where he had fisted it. Because the way he had homed in on me was sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He had kissed the lipstick from my face once, and I wanted him to do it again. More thoroughly this time.
A sound to my right caught my attention, and my feet slowed as I turned towards the pool table.
Something was going on there. I just couldn’t see what.
“Chelsea.” Wicked’s voice was ragged, and I turned my attention back to him. My eyebrow’s quirking upwards as he reached out a hand. “Come on we are getting out of here.” He didn’t seem to wan
