Read Online Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2) by Raquel Lyon - Free Book Online Page A

mid-mouthful to watch the altercation. The woman
turned and my heart stopped. It was Cora.
    She stepped away from the table
as her date stood and snagged her arm in an attempt to pull her back. Anger
tore at my insides. I wanted to pummel his face into the plush furnishings. How
dare he put his hands on her? I shot from my stool and was at her side in
seconds. “Take your hands off the lady.”
    Cora’s date scowled. “Mind your
own business.”
    “It is my business. Cora is a
friend of mine. So, I repeat, remove your hand from her arm.”
    “Or what?”
    I glanced around at the faces
frowning at the disturbance. This wasn’t the kind of joint you started a fight
in. “Or we could continue this conversation outside.” Audacity puffed out my
chest, as he carried out a top to toe assessment before his grip loosened and
fell. “Thought not,” I said.
    “Johnny, were you following me?”
Cora asked.
    “Of course not. The meeting I
told you about was with the manager of this place. I had no idea it was the
same restaurant you were coming to with your date. It seems fate wanted me
here.”
    Our dispute brought a waiter to
my side. He addressed Cora. “Is there a problem here, madam?”
    “No,” she replied. “No problem. I
was just leaving. Johnny, could you … take me home, please?”
    I beamed a gloating victory at
her date, before realising I had a severe lack of wheels. Ah, hell. Who cared?
We could always call a taxi. “My pleasure,” I said, offering Cora the crook of
my arm.
    “You’re leaving?” The man’s acne
scarred face puckered further with loathing. “With this … boy?”
    “I am. Yes.” Cora snatched her
shawl from the back of her chair, turned on her heels, and grabbed my arm. “Because
I’m certainly … not staying here … with you.”
    His voice followed us. “You’re
welcome to her. Two-bit drunk.”
    My blood boiled, and it took all
my strength to hold back. If I hadn’t cared about causing a scene and getting
thrown off the new job before I’d even picked up a trowel, I would have punched
the fat bastard in the nose without a second thought.
    As I escorted Cora towards the
entrance, her heel buckled, and she stumbled into my arms. She giggled.
    “Are you okay?” I asked.
    “I’m a little woozy. I may have
had … one glass of wine too many.”
    “What, just the one?”
    She clenched her teeth, and her
mouth stretched over them, as she pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “I
had a couple to settle my nerves … before I came.” The forefinger pressed
against her bottom lip. “It may not … have been the best idea.”
    I suppressed a laugh. She was
funny when she was tipsy. Like a little girl. “You don’t say. Did you drive
here?”
    She nodded and pointed aimlessly in
half a dozen different directions. “The Audi’s over there … somewhere,” she
said. Man, the drink had really taken hold. She was shitfaced.
    “Where? In that tree? Or perhaps
you meant inside the grocery store next door?” She slumped into my arms, her
weight heavy on my chest. I held her upright.
    “Please, just get me to my bed,”
she said.
    It was everything I wanted to
hear, at the worst possible time. As much as the thought made my heart ache and
my dick throb with anticipation, I’d never take advantage of a woman in need.
“Give me your keys before you pass out.”
    “You’re a lifesaver,” she
slurred.
    When I finally located the car,
Cora clung to me as I eased her into the front seat. I loved the way it felt to
be needed by her. I hadn’t been needed by anyone since Mum died last summer,
and Dad had reached out in his grief, calling for the company of his sons to
remind him he still had something to live for. I’d thought he was coping, that
eventually he would come to accept his loss, but he went downhill rapidly when
I had to return to uni for the start of the new term, and slipped into a
depression which could only ever have had one conclusion. I blamed myself.