“Hello.” I smile politely with a little wave of my hand, and he reaches out his hand to introduce himself. He’s incredibly handsome with slicked-back hair and a strong jaw.
“We’ve met.” Marco stares for a long moment, looking like he’s about to rip out Graham’s jugular.
“Marco,” Graham speaks in a gruff voice. “I never apologized for…”
“Not necessary.” Marco holds out his hand, and when Graham takes it, Marco doesn’t let go right away. “Just know…if you ever hurt this woman…you’ll be the one with a broken jaw.” Marco releases his hand with a smirk.
“Understood.” Graham stands straight with his shoulder square, never breaking eye contact. “Trust me when I say, I have this woman’s back now so you can stand down.” Why is it so hot watching these two sexy beasts go toe to toe?
“Relax, Cavemen …let’s get some drinks,” Soraya growls with a roll of her eyes, making me chuckle. Her big brown eyes are practically melting as she gazes up at Graham, with her arm wrapped around his bicep, and gives him a flirty kiss on his cheek.
A few minutes later, Marco’s cousin, Tig, comes rolling in and joins us. He says a quick hello to everyone before turning to me with a smirk. “Mila…it’s nice to see you again.” He winks, before ordering a beer on tap. At least I’m wearing clothes this time.
Jesus. Standing here with these three large, attractive men is a little intimidating. They must be putting something new in the Brooklyn water. But it’s hard for me to focus on anyone but Marco.
He’s dressed to kill tonight in a dark blue, plaid suit that fits his personality and his body perfectly. The edgy, hipster outfit makes his vibrant blue eyes stand out. The material hugs his muscular frame like a glove. He’s stunning.
Marco’s arm wraps around my waist, and I instinctively lean into him. His jacket’s open, and he’s wearing a black button-down underneath. The top three buttons are undone, and you can make out part of the word Courage tattooed above his heart. He’s oozing with sex appeal. It’s an effort not to trace my fingers over the word, like I do every night before I contently fall asleep on his chest. I lean into him and take in the intoxicating, spicy scent of his cologne.
“Okay…time for girl talk.” Soraya loops her arm around mine, tugging me toward her. The guys huddle together and converse about Marco’s upcoming fight this weekend. “You have it bad.” She grins.
“What?” I screech in a voice about eight octaves higher than normal. “I don’t. I do not,” I scoff, feeling my whole face light up when I grin. Truth is; it’s difficult to hide the blazing chemistry between us. I just hope it doesn’t have an expiration date.
“You so do.” She takes a sip of wine, not trying to hide her smirk. “What’s going on between you two?”
“We kissed.” Not a lie.
“You kissed,” she snorts, deadpanning skeptically. “Uh, huh.”
“We’ve done other…stuff.” Still not a lie. She studies me with a smirk.
“Okay…we had sex,” I whisper, and she chuckles.
“I’ve known Marco for a long time. He’s got it bad for you, babe. I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy again. You both do.”
“I’m scared,” I tell her honestly. I’ve been in one relationship, and it broke me.
“Marco’s one of the good ones. You don’t have to worry about any of that.”
“I know he is.” I let out a harsh breath. “I just don’t think I’ve heard the last of Louis.”
“Well, now you have Marco.” She rubs her palm over my bicep. “He’s the best guy to have in your corner. He won’t let anything happen to you.” I hope she’s right.
“You seem pretty happy yourself,” I change the subject.
She grins from ear to ear. “I am. Graham is…” She sighs like a lovesick teenager, making me chuckle. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
We get comfortable in the center of the dance floor and start working up a sweat when the music changes to an upbeat Lizzo song. I glance around at all the pretty women decked out in the bar, but when I glance at Marco, his dark, intense eyes are on me.
He studies me with hooded eyes, sipping his drink, which I’m sure is club soda since he promised Tommy he wouldn’t drink before the fight. I wave my hands above my head, swaying my hips back and forth. It’s thrilling knowing he only wants me.
After the song ends, we head to the ladies’ room for a quick pee break and hair and makeup check. I glance around the bar as we make our way back, because I still can’t shake the feeling someone is watching me. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, so I chalk it up to my overactive imagination.
I notice the guys have snagged a table, but as we move closer, I see a beautiful woman with luscious black hair around her shoulders, SITTING ON MARCO’S LAP!
She’s wearing a sparkly, rose-gold colored dress that seems to look beautiful on her. Maybe if she were standing and not sitting on Marco’s lap, I could get a better look.
I feel the tears stinging my eyes. I’m slightly irritated, and I’m not sure why. Okay, I’m more than slightly irritated. I have no claim on him, right? He can do whatever he wants. I’ll go over there and smile, pretending it means nothing to me.
Maybe I should bolt. My natural instinct is to run. I should leave the bar before I break down and start bawling like an emotional, crazy person. Why do I care?
When her hands wrap around his neck, and she throws her head back to laugh at something Marco said, I see red. It should be my hands roaming. Not this slut.
“Fuck this,” I whisper to myself. I glimpse over at Soraya, whose eyes are wide with a look of amusement on her face. I don’t see what the hell is so funny as I march straight over to the table.
“Excuse me.” I place my hands on my hips, standing in front of them. “I think you’re in my seat.”
“Oh, really?” The woman releases her hold on Marco’s neck, staring up at me. “Is that so?”
“Yeah…that’s so.” I square my shoulders and jut out my chin, ready for a fight. “Get lost.”
She whispers something in Marco’s ear before placing a quick peck on his cheek. Marco nods his answer, and I’m about ten seconds away from leaving his sorry ass for good. I glance around the table and see everyone staring at me, smirking like a bunch of loons.
Marco stands, depositing the hot woman on her feet, making sure she’s steady. He should dump her on her tight little ass. “Angel…this is…uh…Delia…um…” he stammers. “Tig’s wife.”
I cover my hands over my face and take in a long breath as the mortification starts to set in. A warm flush creeps over me, and I wish to be teleported. Anywhere. “I’m sorry…I thought…” I can’t even finish the sentence. I’m so embarrassed.
“I like her,” Delia snaps before she makes her way over to Tig, with a huge grin on her face. He pulls her onto his lap with a chuckle. “We are definitely going to be friends.”
“Holy shit, babe. That was so fucking hot,” Marco groans, causing the entire table to cackle like a bunch of geese.