Each step only makes my blood boil more.

Who does Frank think he is? He can’t just take every woman he sees, like Honolulu is his personal candy store.

Even as I’m mentally ranting, I know something’s not right. I shouldn’t be getting angry at him.

Just like Violet isn’t Frank’s, she isn’t mine.

And I don’t want her to be.

I mean, the sex we just had was amazing. The best I’ve had in a long time. There’s no getting around that. But I’ve had great lays before. It doesn’t mean I suddenly want the woman to stay around and cook me breakfast.

“Excuse me,” someone suddenly says.

I look up just in time to avoid bumping into an old lady.

“Sorry, ma’am,” I tell her, stepping out of the way.

Shaking my head at myself, I go into the corner grocery store. My brain is still so scrambled, though, I have to walk up and down the aisles several times before finding the coffee beans. Grabbing a bag, I tuck it under my arm and gather the other few regular supplies.

I didn’t really need anything. Not immediately. I just had to get out of the apartment for a while. Being interrupted before I got the chance to screw Violet a second time really messed with my head. Now, she’s all I can think about.

And Frank prattling on about her only made it worse.

I can feel the tension entering my jaw as I take the goods to the counter and wait for the salesclerk to ring them up. Frank and I have slept with a few of the same girls before, but this…this is just different. It’s Violet.

I know her. Frank never will.

“Thanks,” I tell the clerk, taking my change and hoisting up the single plastic bag.

The electric doors slide open, and instead of going straight back to the apartment, I head to the block over, opting to take a long route home.

I should tell him to take his stupid bet and shove it up his ass.

But if I do that, I’ll look like a coward.

My sharp inhale burns. There’s only one option. I may not like it, but it’s what I have to do.

“Let’s do this,” I announce the second I’m in the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind me.

Frank sits up from where he was laying on the couch. He takes off his headphones and stares at me.

“What?”

“I said let’s do this.”

Nodding to myself, I put the grocery bag in the kitchen and take a seat on the edge of the coffee table. Frank’s face practically glows.

“You’re prepared to lose?” he asks. “That’s brave of you.”

“Eat shit,” I mumble. “For all we know, Violet is already pregnant.”

“Or she’s not.” He points purposefully at me.

I roll my eyes just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

Frank jumps up.

“It’s Violet. You left your phone here, so I got her number from it and sent her a text. She said she’s DTF.”

“What?” I roar, rage bursting through me without any warning.

“Chill. I’m kidding. It’s delivery.”

Frank opens the door, revealing a shaggy-haired kid with two bags of food. I drop my head in my hands, aware of my pounding pulse.

“You really know how to get under my skin,” I say once Frank has closed the door.

He sets the food on the coffee table next to me and reclaims his seat.

“Isn’t that why you love me?”

“Uh…No.”

He cracks open the Chinese food.

“Plate,” I remind him.

The use of simple dinnerware was something we agreed on before moving into this place. That, and no falling asleep with beer in our hands. It will be nice if we can keep this apartment decent-looking for at least a little while.

Frank retrieves two plates, as well as a fork.

“Where’s yours?” I ask when he hands me a plate and the solo fork.

“I like chopsticks.”

He cracks a pair of them and attempts to pick up some noodles, which slip through the chopsticks and fall back on his plate.

“Dang.” He frowns.

“You really think Violet is interested in you?”

He looks up at me, the food forgotten for a minute.

“I mean, the way she looked at me…”

I nod, looking down at my plate. “All right.”

If she is into Frank, I don’t like it. I have to be honest there. And it’s not because I want Violet or I don’t want Frank to have what he wants. I just hate sharing. I’ve never been good at it, and never will be.

“Are we gonna do this?” he asks.

“Will you try to screw her even if I say no?”

“Probably,” he answers with no hesitation.

I nod. “Then let’s do it.”

“All right!” He puts his food down so he can clap his hands together. “What are we going to bet?”

“This is a bet? I didn’t say anything about—”

“You scared?”

I snort. This isn’t second grade.

But I’m also not a pussy.

“Fine,” I agree. “Let’s bet. We’ll see who can get Violet pregnant first. If you lose, you own me your gun collection. The whole thing.”

Frank’s eyes go wide. His gun collection is extensive, the most important thing he owns. Not only is it worth a lot of money, it’s his pride and joy. Losing it would kill him.

And make me very, very happy.

“Well?” I push.

His mouth sets into a hard line. “Okay. But if you lose, I get your motorcycle.”

My stomach flips. No, what’s probably the most rational part of my brain screams. I saved up years for that thing, and dreamed about it for years longer. It’s part of my whole life plan. I can buy the house in the country with the giant wraparound porch, but that life won’t be half as good without my custom-made baby there to enjoy it with.

“Clock’s ticking, Sean.” Frank grins. He knows he’s got my heart in a vice grip.

Just because I want to wipe that cocky look off his face, I stick my hand out.

“Fine.”

He gives me a firm shake, and I resist the urge to squeeze his hand tight.

“May the best man win.” Frank grins.

“I will. Don’t worry.”

Violet may not be mine in the traditional sense, but I had my eyes on her first. When compared to Frank’s position in her life, she’s most definitely my woman.

No other man can step up to the plate, because no other man knows her like I do. Yes, I’m going to be the one to give her what she wants and needs.

The only one.