Trapped by My Crush's Dad

Chapter 40: Disaster on the Dance Floor

Mila's pov

With Ada having a date for the party, it was even worse that Everett kissed her in front of everyone. What a creep! I yanked the bottom of my dress up trying not to trip in my heels as I dashed over to her.

"Everett, how dare you?" I hissed, helping to move Ada away from him. She was panting as she wiped her mouth. "This is completely out of line!”

"It didn't feel that way," he said with a sly smile, glancing at Ada. I blocked him from going after her again. "What's the matter, Mila? You jealous?"

"Oh, please," I said, shaking my head in annoyance. "Not even close."

"Well, you should be. Her kissing skills are way better than yours," he said, "I wish I never wasted a second on you."

It made me angry that he was trying to make me jealous, especially referencing our time in the bathroom. That was less than stellar; it bordered on assault. He crossed his arms defensively when I didn’t respond the way he expected. Then, Ralph came over with Chase egging Everett on. They each had beers in their hands and seemed in a rowdy kind of mood.

"Yeah, Everett. Get a new girl! Ada is hot." Chase clapped Everett on the back, which only helped to spur him on.

Everett smirked then turned with a haughty expression as he looked down at me and said, "Your family isn't worthy of being associated with the Williams. Your father is weak, and you have no money."

A fire burned then erupted in my chest when he insulted my family. Without thinking I kicked him in the nuts and tossed my drink in his face. I heard a collective gasp, followed by several pairs of wide eyes on me. Everett dropped to his knees on the floor, groaning in pain. As I saw him, I regretted my impulsive decision.

I didn't like losing my cool, especially in front of people I didn't know but there was no way I was going to allow him to trash talk my family like we were nobodies. We'd been friends with the Williams for years and he was making it out like we had glommed onto their status, mooching like parasites.

I came back to reality when I heard him moaning in pain. My eyes flicked to him as he laid in the fetal position. My mind was a mess as I twisted my fingers in my hair. I couldn't think straight; my only option was to grab Ada and pull her out of there. As we rushed out the door, I didn't look back, scuttling down the drive.

Our heels were scraping against the pavement, and we almost fell. Gasping, I held her hand making sure we had our balance. When we were closer to the parking lot, I stopped, bending over trying to catch my breath.

Once Ada had recovered, she said, "Wow, Mila, killer accuracy. You got him square in the gonads without even having to look." Her mouth was dropped open as she slapped my shoulder in congratulations. I wasn't feeling celebratory, however. All I wanted to do was hide.

"I'm sorry, Ada. Everett was trying to get back at me and used you as a prop. Did he hurt you?"

"Hell no," she said laughing under her breath. “That wimp couldn’t hurt me.”

"But he must have ruined things with your date. I'm sure he wasn't impressed with that spectacle. Do you think you can patch it up with him?"

"Oh, I'm already over him. The bastard didn't even step up to protect me! Who does that?" She threw her hands out in surprise. "I plan to block him.”

We couldn't help but laugh.

A pair of footsteps were hurriedly racing after us. When we turned around, we realized it was Robert. Stopping, we let him catch up to us.

"Thank God you're okay!" he said, sighing with relief. "I didn't realize that being a fake boyfriend was so high maintenance."

We all chuckled together. He wiped his shirt off, noting that he'd spilled something on it.

"What happened there?" I asked and pointed to the wet part of his button down.

"I spilled my drink on me. I was so shocked with what you did I couldn't stop laughing."

"I'm glad you were entertained," I said, crossing my arms, but in a silly way. He knew I was joking.

"Well, let's not linger. Everett is bound to get back on his feet soon,” he said, “My car is in the back.” He pointed toward the parking lot. We began to walk toward his car, the streets wet from an earlier rain. Managing to avoid puddles, I felt relieved when we finally made it to his sedan. He hit the fob, and it flicked the lights, with a tiny beep.

Just as I pivoted to follow him, my phone rang. Carefully, I retrieved it from my purse. Holding it in my hand, Mr. Williams' number flashed on the screen. My heart was pounding but just as I was going to answer it, that familiar navy-blue BMW pulled up.