“Your girl’s here.”
Motherfucker. My fingers pause over the keyboard for less than a breath before I resume typing. Of course Tucker fucking notices. He fucking notices everything. That’s what I fucking pay him for.
But this time, this time, I wish he actually was as fucking stupid as he looks. Because I don’t want to talk about her. And I sure as hell don’t want her here.
“Who?” I ignore the subtle lift of his cheeks before his face falls impassive again. Son of a bitch almost smirked at me. Because he knows I’m a fucking piece of shit liar. “That slut I pounded last night?”
Now he really does grin. His full on ‘you’re a fucking moron’ smart ass smile. Both of us well aware I haven’t fucked anyone since her.
“Chryseis.”
Him even saying her name pisses me off. He’s been my fucking best friend since I got my ass kicked for shorting Ricky when I was selling on Morgan, and Tucker literally dragged my unconscious body to the emergency room. But my mom was fucking hungry. Fuck, we were both hungry, and I needed the cash.
Luckily, hospitals can’t sue kids and since no one came to claim me, I snuck out free and clear after sleeping like I was at the fucking Ritz in an actual bed. The first night in my entire short life that I could ever actually remember being warm, safe, and full despite the pain throbbing in my mangled body.
Left with just the jagged scar on my cheek to always remind me that only the boss doles out the orders and the beatings. Something I made very clear to Ricky a few years later. Then his boss, and then his boss. Until I was the motherfucking king of this city.
But right now, I’m pissed. He’s just fucking with me. Chryseis would never show up uninvited. Hell, she wouldn’t come even if I begged her to. Not that I can fucking blame her after what I did. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I keep slamming the keys. Like I don’t even give a damn. Like my entire fucking universe isn’t near enough that I swear to fucking god I can smell her honeysuckle perfume.
I don’t even know what I’m writing anymore. My cock aches as much as my heart. God I fucking miss her.
“Donaldson said she came in about ten minutes ago.”
The guard in the lobby who prevents the problems from my past from trying to insert themselves into my present by keeping them from getting on the elevator. And making sure Chryseis always got upstairs as fast as my dick got hard from the mention of her name.
“Doesn’t he know I don’t give a damn about her anymore?”
“I guess he never got the memo.” Tucker taps the side of my laptop. “She went into Cielo. With a guy.”
She’s on a fucking date? Hell the fuck no. Not my woman. Not with some motherfucking asshole who doesn’t know who the fuck I am or what she means to me.
I jump up, and my chair slams into the wall behind me. Throttling the mirror so hard the black frame splinters, raining down onto the credenza. I don’t even flinch as glass shards spray across my back. I’ve got shit to do. Like fucking beat the son of a bitch who is stupid enough to think he has a chance to take what’s mine.
Tucker’s on my heels as I stride down the hallway to my private elevator. Not sure if he’s trailing so close to help me destroy the bastard or stop me from getting my ass thrown in jail. Either way, he’s going to do whatever the hell he has to do to ensure I find her.
We ride down in silence. Only the sound of my best friend swiping his screen echoes in the tense air. Relaying the intel as he receives the updates. I care, but I don’t. I just want out of this cage. I just want oxygen to permeate my squeezing lungs. I just want her.
“It’s a Christmas party.”
She should be celebrating with me.
“For an ad agency down the street.”
She should be down on her knees in my office.
“Looks like lunch, then some kind of gift exchange, and then dessert.”
She should be naked and drenched in caramel as a present for me.
Sliding through the mirrored doors as soon as they part, I jog through the lobby and into the restaurant. Half crazed, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. Or say. But it sure as hell will be something that sends a clear message to both of them. She may have come with him, but she’s leaving with me.
No one notices our abrupt entrance. The music as loud as their spirits and laughter. Everyone drunk on the decadence of spending a Friday afternoon eating and drinking on the company’s tab. The same defiant buzz as skipping school. Which I know all too well. Although I sure as hell wasn’t missing class because I was having fun.
Probably seventy-five people mill around. The bar area overflowing, brighter than normal with strands of tiny blue and white lights strewn across the wall-to-wall mirror and the tall evergreen stuffed in the corner. A harsh contrast to the normally dark bistro that I prefer.
But I still find her instantly. My cock like a magnet drawn to her essence. Her long, dark hair that feels like silk sways over her shoulder. Her slender legs even more stunning in black heels. Her red tipped fingers wrapped around a tall glass, the golden liquid sloshing against the sides as she leans closer to some motherfucker. Whispering words only he can hear. A wicked smile lifts his cheeks from her luscious pink lips brushing his ear and her free hand tugging his sleeve. With an intimacy that shoots boiling rage through my chest. That affection should be meant for me. She’s meant for me.
“Books?”
The tone sounds harsh even to my own ears. Demanding. Possessive. Obsessed. And for the best fucking second of my life a spark of happiness flames in her eyes when her gaze meets mine after hearing my voice. Responding to me uttering my nickname for her. Regardless of what bullshit she tells me or herself, she’s glad to see me. Before reality douses the fire between us. Before she remembers that she hates me.
Her smile fades as fast as the grin blossomed, and she shakes her head. Nervousness jolts her slight body, and she grasps his forearm, attempting to turn him and walk away from me. Which I will never let fucking happen.
In four quick steps, I’m behind her. Sheathing her back with my chest. My hand sliding around her waist, her body shuddering under my palm when I tuck my cheek against hers. Claiming her in front of this bastard and everyone else. “You better not be fucking him.”
I swear to fucking god her body arches into mine from my threat hissed into her hair. As much as she swore she despised my dirty mouth, her pussy and tits don’t lie. Sweet nipples strain against the sheer bras I know she wears, pebbling under the thin fabric of her silver dress. And fuck me if I can smell her arousal only inches from my fingers gripping her hip.
Before she can respond, her dumb ass friend, who thinks he stands a chance against me, twists around and tries to yank her out of my embrace.
“What the hell are you doing? Let her go.”
Never.
A few heads spin in our direction from the sharpness slicing through his voice, and she stiffens, struggling to push off of me and spin around. Fear that I fucking hate lines her face, her gaze bouncing between him and me.
“Please stop, Gio. You’re making a scene.”
I’ll stop. For her. Not him. Although I do fucking love the sound of her begging. The pleading tone zeroing in on my already pulsing balls.
I grin and wink, allowing her to step back from me. As if it’s all in jest. Just friends getting a bit too boisterous from the booze. A bunch of crazy fuckers living it up at three in the afternoon. Although these lame ass hipsters have no idea how to really enjoy themselves.
I nod toward the half-empty tumbler in the bastard’s clenched fingers. “Better slow down on the whiskey, my friend. You’re getting a little out of control with your boss standing right there.”
All the flushed fury seeps from his face when he glances at the man squinting in our direction. A wide stance and expensive suit conveying a confidence that almost matches my own. From the worry scrunching the idiot’s face under the man’s scrutiny, my guess is correct.
A fake ass smile plasters over his face, and he lets out a lame laugh before lightly punching me on the bicep. Touch me again motherfucker and you die. I don’t give a fuck who's watching.
“Dude, you’re such a wild man.”
Dude? Really? How the fuck does she stand this guy? Done with him, I focus on my girl. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Rage blisters her already pink skin. Which is so fucking gorgeous to see her riled up and feisty with me.
“No.”
My chuckle only angers her more. Squeezing her rose petal lips to keep from telling me off. That I know she wants to do so badly with her amazing body humming with disgust. So, of course, I fucking stoke the fire. “Unless you want me to break his jaw in front of his co-workers, I suggest you put a smile on that beautiful face and walk your cute ass out into the foyer with me.”
I refuse to call him boyfriend. Whatever she thinks she had with him, it’s over. She can tell him, or I’ll show him. Either way, he’s gone.
Her gaze jerks to Tucker, standing a foot behind me. Desperate for his help. Frantic enough to think his influence might sway me. But they both know better. Only offering a defeated shrug in response, he shakes his head. Despite his gun and massive size, he’s just as helpless as she is. Both of them well aware no one and nothing can control me when it comes to her.
With trembling fingers, she sets her flute on the table and rolls back her narrow shoulders. “I hate you.”
“I know.”
Hurts more than I care to admit. But I deserve her wrath. I’m an asshole, and I know it. Never pretended to be anything other than what I am. That’s why we’re here. Like this. Instead of her at home in my bed where she belongs.
A stunning smile lights up her face that stings even more than her words. That I want to make real so fucking bad. She leans into the fucker, almost kissing his cheek. Seeming to think better of it, she cups his cheek instead. Smart girl. Otherwise, I’d have to beat the taste of her lips off his stupid face.
“I’ll be right back, Leighton.”
Even his name sounds like a pussy ass. I scrub down my chin before I put my hand on the small of her back. Tugging her closer despite her resistance. When the fuck did I become so fucking immature? Because of her. She does this to me.
“Okay, see you in a few.”
Too loud and forced. Stupid fucker’s nervous. Good. He should be fucking scared. And sad. Because she’s not coming back ‘in a few’ or any other time.
Only her ire speaks while I wind her through the tables and into the lobby. Her heels tapping furiously across the marble hotter than fuck. “Slow down Books. I’ll be fucking you soon enough.”
Now I’ve really pissed her off. She jerks away from my hold. Slender fingers curling into fists. Keeping herself from slapping me across my smart ass mouth. A loss of control that only I bring out in her. Crumbling her normal poised, elegant demeanor. My brute to her beauty.
We lose Tucker at the elevator. Fucker actually looks relieved. Doesn’t have to listen to our argument all the way up. Which is just foreplay. So I can see why he wants out.
She’s on me as soon as the doors tap shut. Wound up and adorable, grabbing my lapels with all the force she can muster.
“Why did you do that? You could’ve gotten Leighton fired.”
Fuck him. This is about her.
I’m in her space in a heartbeat. Forcing her to stumble backward. Caging her in against the textured wall. Cool metal vibrates under my fist resting above her sweet head. I dip down, eliminating the difference in our heights, and nuzzle her neck. Welcoming her surprised little gasp. Relishing her soft skin, that pulses under my lips skimming her shoulder. Breathing in her seductive scent that I need more than an addict craves his needle.
I lift my head, pressing my forehead to hers. Brushing my thumb over her parted mouth. Grazing her tongue, which makes her breathe even harder. “Because you seem to have forgotten. You. Are. Mine.”
“No. I’m. Not.”
Small but quick, she crouches down and slips under my arm. Jetting over to the numbered panel. Shoving buttons trying to make us stop. Make me stop.
I grab her wrist and spin her around to face me. She cries out, flinching under my grasp. Delicate fingers claw at my hand, attempting to pry me off her velvety skin. “Let me go!”
“Don’t.” I loosen my grip but refuse to release her. “You know I would never hurt you.”
Meeting my eyes, I see the agony in hers. For all her bravado and defiance, the pain I fucking caused glows the brightest. “Only my heart and my pride. But you’re right. No bruises. So yeah, thanks for that.”
That fucking mouth. That I need on my cock so fucking bad. “I’m sorry.”
The words slip out before I register them. I never apologize. Ever. But it fucking kills me to see what I’ve done to her. Making me a weak ass bastard.
She knows this and surprise flashes across her face. Huge blue eyes widening with disbelief as her mouth falls open. But doubt creeps in, and she shakes her head. Giving up. Her body softens and her gaze slides to the floor. All the fight gone.
“No you’re not.”
I’ve broken her. When all I want to do is pick up the shattered pieces and figure out a way to glue them back together. Eliminate the cracks. Make her whole again. Make an “us” again. “What’re you doing here? You know this is my building. That I’d be here.”
Grasping for a bit of hope like a motherfucking pussy, I latch onto the idea that she wanted me to find her. To see her with that asshole and realize what I’ve lost. Regret what I destroyed. Which I’ve done every single fucking day since I put her in that cab and watched her ride away confused and heartbroken.
“God, you’re still so arrogant.” The bitter laugh burns like another blade to my gut. “I know you think the world revolves around you, but this event was planned months ago. When Leighton asked me, I said yes before I knew it was being held here. Otherwise, I would have told him no.”
She challenges me to question her more. Because we both know she has all the answers. Except the one I want to hear. The one she’ll probably never say again. “Guy’s a prick. He‒”
“No, he isn't.” Soft but adamant, her voice holds no doubts about him. The only uncertainty swirls around her feelings toward me. “He’s a good guy who wants what I want.”
“Which is what?”
I know exactly what she wants. What she deserves. But I couldn't give it to her. Not then. Not now. But I'm too fucking selfish to admit that all of this is a huge fucking mistake and I should let her go. Because I can't. Not ever again.
The same broken expression from the night I dumped her darkens her gorgeous face. The same hollowness in her eyes that’s haunted my dreams every fucking night for six months.
“Everything you don’t.”
I’ve missed her more than I can describe. And, to see her. So fucking stunning. Glowing with happiness from being with him, fuck me. More than jealousy. More than winning her back to prove I can. Fucking killing me that she thinks she could be so content with someone else when I know I never could. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.” A frustrated sigh blows against my chest. “There’s nothing left to say. I’m going back to the party.”
A two tone chime catches both of us by surprise. So lost in our discussion neither of us aware we arrived at the top floor. Sliding my hand from her wrist to her fingers, I entwine them, and luckily she doesn’t fight me as I lead her into the entryway. Too sophisticated and well-mannered to behave like anything but a lady.
The receptionist does a double take and tosses off her headset, running around her desk to greet Chryseis. Hugging like old friends. Which I guess they kind of are. Everyone missing her almost as much as I do.
“It’s so good to see you.” Tilly squeezes her tight and then pushes her back, her gaze sweeping up and down her petite body. She rubs her billowy sheer sleeve, nodding with approval. “You look so pretty. I love the dress. How have you been?”
I can’t help but laugh. Only women can fucking get away with touching each other like that and not get slapped.
“I’m glad to see you too. It’s been too long.”
“I know. Are the two of you…”
Pinkness circles Tilly’s cheeks, finally acknowledging my presence. Which prevents her from asking the real question playing out on her face. Hesitant to question the status of our relationship.
Yeah, we’re back together. Chryseis just doesn’t know it yet.
I gesture toward the chirping phone. Reminding Tilly to mind the business of our clients and not the two of us. She gives Chryseis one last quick embrace before scurrying back to her chair and jabbing the keypad.
“Trivoli and Associates. How may I help you?”
Three more women fawn over her before we finally escape to my office. I ease the door shut once she’s trapped inside. Not bothering to click the lock. Everyone knows better than to fucking disturb me. Especially when Chryseis is here.
A wistful smile brightens her exquisite face. “I’ve missed coming here. Seeing all of them.”
But not me obviously. The thoughtful expression fades as she glances around my office. Replaced by her irritation. Of memories of what we used to have. Remembering how good we used to be.
Until her gaze lands on the destruction behind my desk. A reminder of my temper when I don’t get what I want. Of my drive than never wanes.
Her arms wrap around her torso. Consoling herself from the loss of the love I yanked away so harsh and unexpectedly.
“I don’t know what I’m doing up here.” She shakes her head. As disappointed in herself as she is with me. “I need to get back. Leighton’s going to think you’ve kidnapped me.”
“I have.”
So caught up in her reverie she missed me sliding off my tie behind her. Black hair swirls like a fan as she spins around. Panic flaming in her wide sapphire eyes. She may be quick, but I’m determined, and I curl the emerald silk around her tiny wrists before she can stop me. She jerks away, but it’s too late.
“What’re you doing? Stop it.”
Scolding me as if I’m a disobedient child who can be corrected. She doesn’t realize how fucking serious I am. Rooted in place by shock, she glares up at me in her fury. Earning me a few extra seconds to tighten my restraints before she realizes my intentions and tries to run. Awkward but adorable with her bound hands, she makes it to ten feet in front of the door before I block her path. My ego as huge as her fear.
“Come on, what are you going to do? Keep me prisoner here?”
This time she grins and shakes her head. Tries a more playful tone. As if I’m just teasing. As if we’re just kidding around again. She’s cute. Really cute and so utterly wrong. Before she can get her shapely leg reared back to kick me, I palm her firm ass and tug her closer. “Yes.”
“I mean it Giovanni. Let me go, or I’ll start screaming.”
My full name. She really is fired up. God I fucking love how the syllables slowly roll off her tongue. Wrapping around my hardening cock like velvet. Like her mouth should be. “Doesn’t matter. They’ve heard you scream before. Remember when I made you come on my desk? Like honey on my lips.”
The blush runs all the way down to the vee in her dress, revealing just a hint of her amazing tits. Nipples I need to have in between my teeth so fucking bad.
“I should never have done that.”
I’ve replayed that image over and over in my head. Pink dress bunched around her waist as I tasted her sweet pussy. Back arching up to meet my mouth with every lick. Fingernails almost scalping me from pulling my hair so hard. Little white thong, as innocent as her, still dangling from her dainty ankle when I lifted her foot over my shoulder to suck in her throbbing clit. “It was fucking magnificent. God, I fucking love watching you get off.”
Her hip juts out to the side, and her furious gaze bores into me. Almost immobile from my fabric handcuffs and unyielding grip, yet she still has the balls to sass me with that insolent attitude I love. “Well, I hope your memory is good because you won’t ever see me naked again.”
“Oh, I think I will.” I wink. Answering her challenge. Because I always fucking win. “Maybe even tonight.”
I crouch down and scoop her up, circling my arm around her thighs. Fuck me if the skin under my fingertips is even softer than I remember.
She really would smack me this time if her hands were free and she wasn’t dangling over my shoulder. Perfect for me to caress her pert ass. God damn she’s sexy. Struggling against me, her glorious tits rub into my back. I give her butt a spank. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make her pussy wet. My girl likes it rough.
Giving back as much as she gets, she pounds on my calves with her bundled fists. Digging her short nails into my pants when her beating doesn’t work. “Put me down!”
“Nope.” I stride toward the door. Intent on taking her home and convincing her to give me another chance. Either with my words or my cock. Doesn’t matter as long as she agrees.
“Please?” She falls limp. Her body flopping against me, and I cringe at her pitiful tone. “I feel sick.”
Fuck, I’m a stupid, selfish bastard. I slowly slide her down and flip her over. Cradling her against my chest. Unable to stop myself from kissing her forehead with her delicate head cuddled on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She doesn’t open her eyes. Or gag from my lips on her skin. Just nods. Forgiving my severity with her, if not my absurdity.
I drop down to the sofa by the wet bar. Holding her tight so she doesn’t flail against me. Treating her with a tenderness reserved only for her. Even though I’m the asshole who caused her distress. Physically and mentally. “Books?”
Her eyes blink open, and she gives me a sad smile as she nods. “Too much champagne I guess.”
This time she flinches when I touch her. Cupping her cheek, pulsing and red under my palm. Finally too much, I guess. Too close. Too intimate. Too many memories flooding both our heads.
Instead of arguing, I release her wrists. Caressing over the ivory skin to ensure her circulation returns. Rare guilt courses through me while I wait for her to try and push off of me. Not wanting to fight. But I'm sure as hell not letting her go either.
Fuck me harder. She stays. Rather than try to run, she remains curled on my lap. Not much of a reassurance but all I’ve got to latch onto. So, I’m going all in. “Give me another chance.”
Yeah, I sound like a fucking pussy ass bitch but I don’t give a damn. It’s just her and me right now. The only person I’d ever bare my weakness to. But my effort fails. Her head shakes immediately, and she stares at her hands fidgeting in her lap, twisting the opal birthstone ring her grandmother gave her around and around. The iridescent gem as fiery and brilliant as her. Unwilling to meet my eyes. Narrow shoulders slumping with weariness. “I’m with Leighton now. He’s who I want to be with.”
Unadulterated jealousy roars through my muscles from that motherfucker’s name, and I clutch her tighter. Both incorrect assertions on her part. Although no need for debate. The decision’s been made. “You’re breaking up with him.”
“No.” My declaration whips up the fury again and her outrage returns. Poking her red-tipped index finger into my pounding chest. That I would fucking love to suck into my mouth. Among many other parts of her delicious body. “I...am...not.”
Slow and deliberate, she enunciates each word to make sure my thick, dense brain can comprehend her assertion. I respond in kind. No ambiguity in my tone either.
“Then...I...will...kill...him.”
Probably not, but you never know. The only man I hate more than myself is that dumb bastard for being smart enough to swoop in and douse the flames when she crashed and burned. Seizing the opportunity to wipe away the ashes to the ravished beauty underneath and claim her for himself. Just one antagonizing word or impertinent look is all it would take for me to pop a bullet in his idiotic, spiky haired head.
“You wouldn’t.”
Fear seeps through her whisper. She knows exactly who I am and what I do. Somehow she loved me enough to accept the danger. To see beyond the savagery when we were together. Trusted in me not to let that part of my life ever touch her. At least she used to anyway.
I don’t respond. I don’t have to. We both know I would. Although I have absolutely zero doubt she would never forgive me.
Panic pales her beautiful face, and she shoves off my lap. Jerking away from my fingers tangling in the back of her dress. Snagging the silk in her angry spin to face me. Keeping me from touching her. “Why are you doing this? You dumped me." A trembling hand taps her chest, emphasizing the damaged heart underneath. "You didn’t want me then and nothing’s changed. You’ll just dump me again when you get tired of me.”
I need to fix that misconception right now. I hop up too, invading her space. Our bodies brushing against each other with her irritated, heaving breaths. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve always wanted you.”
Pain flashes in her dimmed eyes because she thinks I only mean sex. Which of course I'm harder than fuck to be this close to her. To touch her cashmere skin. To smell her intoxicating perfume. But I miss so much more than just her body. "I didn't realize what I needed. Until now."
“You’ll never grow up. You’re immature and selfish and conceited. The only person you care about is yourself.”
All the words she probably wanted to say that night after the shock wore off and never had the opportunity. Until now. So I take the abuse she doles out. I fucking deserve her wrath, and I know she’s fucking earned the right to lash out at me with her furious accusations. Well aware she has no idea the truth behind my actions.
“I was a fool for even going out with you in the first place. But I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll never, ever give you another chance.”
Her voice breaks on the last words. For the second time, I’ve made her cry. Killing me that I keep fucking up and hurting the only woman I’ve ever loved. “Books, I‒”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
She swipes at the beads glistening on her flushed cheeks, looking up at the recessed lights to gather her composure, and blows out a long breath.
“Will you please just take me back to get my phone and coat?”
Damn it. I’ll allow her to retrieve her belongings, but this discussion is far from finished. She’s still coming home with me so I can prove how mistaken she is and how fucking sorry I’ve always been.
I shrug off my jacket and drape the black fabric around her trembling body. Covering the gaping hole in her skirt. “I’ll buy you another dress.”
Hell, I’ll buy her anything she fucking wants for her not to be angry with me.
Jerking away from my caress on her drooping shoulder, she stands up to her full height. All maybe five three of her and stares me down as much as she can a foot underneath me. Fuck me if she’s not magnificent even in her rage. Unafraid of me towering over her. “I don’t want anything from you except for you to leave me alone.”
All I can do is watch her twist on her heel and march to the door. Each step stronger than the last in her haste to get away from me. Of course, my strides are almost twice as long, and I catch up with her just as her delicate fingers grip the knob, and I palm the cool wood to keep her from leaving. “This isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is. You made very sure of that the last time I saw you.”
The brutality of my actions pulse in her strained whisper. Still raw and bitter after all this time. Jesus. I’m a fucking bastard. Torturing her with a cruelty that night she never deserved, to ensure our breakup was clear and final. Forcing me now to overcome my own idiocy. To prove how completely wrong I was.
Yet I refuse to make her cry again and step back, allowing her to twist the handle and storm out. We walk in torturous silence down the hallway and through the reception area. Tilly’s faltering smile as we pass by her desk amplifies my defeat. But this setback is only temporarily. That’s for damn fucking sure.
Chryseis jabs the button as soon as we step into the elevator, hugging the wall farthest from me during our downward journey. A visceral reminder of how thoroughly she despises me. Desperate to escape from my presence.
She bolts between the still sliding doors when we return to the first floor. Like I’m ever going to let her walk away from me. I force myself to keep from touching her, floating like a shadow right behind her cute ass. Long strands of ebony hair billow backward in her rush, grazing against my crisp, white shirt. As stark and definitive as the animosity between us.
The party has spilled out into the foyer. About ten people mill about in small groups, chatting yet subdued as the festivities wind down. That dumb motherfucker beelines straight to her, separating from four other men whose pensive gazes flit between him and me. While Leighton’s eyes zero in on her. Well aware my leniency toward him wanes with each word out of his stupid ass mouth.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.” She smiles at the moron, accepting her jacket and little sparkly purse that he holds out to her. Strained and pitiful with tear streaks still glistening on her pink skin while she attempts a carefree tone. “I’m sorry I was gone so long. I had to take care of‒”
“Listen...” He clears his throat, looking down. Suddenly his loafers more interesting than her beautiful face. “…I don’t think this is going to work out.”
I swear to god she winces from his admission.
“You don’t understand. It’s not what you think.” Her voice falls lower. Calm and reasonable. Attempting to prevent the disaster playing out between them. “We were just talking.”
“You’re a great girl and everything, but I don’t want any trouble.” He steps back. An awkward wave before his hand falls limp and glides into his jeans pocket. “I’m sorry. We can still be friends. I’m just…I’ll see you around.”
Smart move, motherfucker. You just saved your own ass. Her delicate body trembles under my hand on her back. Doesn’t even register my touch. All of her attention focused on him.
“Leighton, wait. I’m not with him.” Panic pulses in her tone, and she leans closer. “Please listen to me…I want to be with you.”
Oh hell no. I’ll be god damned if she’s going to fucking beg him to be with her. Motherfucking bastard doesn’t deserve her. If he was any kind of man, he’d never have let her leave with me in the first place. I can’t help but sneer at his pussy ass. “You better get the fuck out of here before I fucking kill you.”
Genuine fear twitches through his rigid body, and he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go. Take care of yourself, Chryseis.”
Only a shaky gasp answers him as he turns and jogs back to his friends. One of the idiots even pats him on the shoulder. Supporting him for breaking her heart in front of everyone. Fury throbs in my muscles. This is never what I wanted. Him gone, yes. Her humiliated again, no. Now he really will die. I may be a fucking hypocrite but I don’t give a damn. No one will ever treat her like shit again. Including me. “Come on Chryseis. Let’s go.”