Chapter Eight

Amelia's POV

"You have a lot of nerve asking me that," I retorted. "If you don't like beer showers, you shouldn't go around groping women, you disgusting pervert!"

He looked at me like I was an insane person spouting rubbish.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Don't try to play dumb," I snapped. "Or are you going to claim it was an accident? Well, it didn't feel that way to me!"

His gaze swept over me from head to toe, like I was something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

"I didn't touch you," he hissed. "I didn't even see you. What are you, desperate for attention?"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that!" I yelled.

Heads were turning our way, and a crowd was starting to gather, but I didn't care. I just wanted to descend on this asshole and claw his annoying face off.

"You were rude to me first!" he snapped.

"You expect politeness when you groped me?" I demanded.

The nerve of this man!

"I'm telling you, I didn't!" he replied. "You don't even know for sure that it was me. Someone did, and you turned around, saw me walking past and decided that I was the culprit. Is that how you handle all your problems, or is today special?"

I faltered at that, blinking in confusion.

"You… didn't do it?" I said.

"Oh, so you finally heard me," he replied with a glare.

"That can't be," I muttered.

I couldn't believe him so easily. It wasn't like he had proof that he didn't do it.

"This doesn't make sense," I insisted. "You were standing right behind me. It has to be you!"

"Wow," he said drily. "You're so clever."

I bristled at the sarcasm.

"If it wasn't you, then who was it?" I demanded.

"So now you decide to ask?" he retorted.

"Anyway, I don't know how you expect me to know. Like I said, I wasn't looking at you. I didn't even see you until you had drenched me!"

I looked down at his jacket, which had collected a good quantity of beer, then up at his face.

"Well," I said. "You shouldn't have been behind me, then."

"Seriously?" he said. "I need a license to walk around a bar now?"

"It was an easy mistake to make. I don't even know if you're telling the truth!" I pointed out.

"He is," a voice spoke behind me.

I turned, only to see that it was the barman that had spoken.

"What?" I blurted out.

"He wasn't the one," the barman replied. "He was really just walking past. And I saw the actual culprit too, so I know it wasn't him."

For a moment, there was silence.

"Seriously?" I said, my hand itching to slap him across the face. "You didn't think it would be a good idea to mention this earlier?"

Instantly, the barman looked nervous.

"Hey, you looked mad enough to attack him," he said defensively. "I didn't want you to attack me too."

I rolled my eyes. I really don't have time for idiots.

"So? Who's the real culprit?" I asked.

"He disappeared as soon as you poured your drink on that guy," he said, pointing towards the crowd. "He went that way."

Immediately, I turned to the hot guy.

"Come with me," I said.

He stopped wiping his face with a hankie just to look at me like I was crazy.

"Why should I do that?" he asked.

"Because you're fit and you look strong, and I can't take down some guy on my own," I replied.

"You seriously expect me to help you?" he demanded. "In case you didn't notice, I'm still covered in your beer."

"Sorry about that," I replied. "I'll get your jacket washed and dry-cleaned if you help me out with this."

His expression said that this was the dumbest deal he had ever heard of.

"Oh come on," I said. "I can't do this on my own. Help me? Please?"

He looked like he was going to refuse. Or maybe roll his eyes at me. He did neither.

"Whatever," he said. "Let's go and find him."

"Thanks!" I beamed, before turning back to the barman. "So, what did he look like?"

After the barman described him, we went in search of him. He wasn't hard to find, since the fool hadn't even gone to hide or anything.

"There you are," I said.

He turned around, and frowned at the sight of me.

"You're that bitch," he said.

"That bitch is about to make you regret having hands," I replied with a smirk.

He tried to hit me, only for the hot guy to catch his arm and twist it behind his back, slamming him into a wall. While he grunted with pain, the hot guy took several pictures of him.

"Expect a visit from the police," he said, shoving the pervert into a table.

We turned our backs on the sound of him smashing into several glasses. I was smiling triumphantly as we stepped out of the bar. The hot guy silently took off his jacket and handed it to me, and I let myself drink in the sight of his perfectly sculpted body.

"Thanks for your help," I said, folding up the jacket.

"Don't thank me," he replied, his tone still unfriendly. "Just don't disappear with my jacket."

"You're the one trusting me with it," I said.

"I figured I might as well," he replied with a shrug. "Why should I let you get away with what you did?"

I rolled my eyes at that.

"Why did you help me, then?"

"Because he treated you unfairly," he replied in a serious tone.

I stared at him, astonished, but he was walking away before I could come up with a response to that.

It was long past bedtime by the time I snuck back into the Domitia mansion, clutching the jacket to my rapidly beating heart. Why did I get the feeling that this meeting was only the start of something huge?