“Sorry… I have a temper sometimes.” Collins nods at my vague apology. “Look.” I blow out my cheeks, making a show of being uncomfortable. “It’s getting late, and I feel like an ass, but can I give you my number? I would love to see you again.”
Collins pats down his upper body and legs without hesitation, undoubtedly looking for his phone. He groans when he comes up short.
“Fuck, I left it at the office.”
“That’s okay. You can add yours to mine.”
I smile, open my phone, and pull up the screen to add a new contact. Then the bitch freezes up and shuts off. That’s what happens when you use last-minute, cheap-ass burner phones.
“Shit, it just died.”
Collins stares at me a moment before turning to Brenner, who does everything he can to feed into Hussy’s bullshit.
“Hey, Li, do you think you could put…” he pauses before turning to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”
“Mila,” I purr. We didn’t have much time to come up with an alias. Not much time to do shit, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did half the work, knowing damn well that I could do the rest. Mila was close to Malia, at least.
“Can you put Mila’s number in your phone? I left mine at work.”
Brenner turns around and raises a questioning eyebrow that screams, ‘are you that fucking stupid?’ His eyes shift around the club like he’s trying to figure out if he’s in TheTwilight Zone.
“Liam?” Collins questions.
Brenner’s eyes meet mine and leave as quickly as they came, only responding with a scoff while fishing his phone from his pants and handing it to Collins.
I take note of the fact that neither Brenner nor Collins have to bypass the FaceID or fingerprint security on his phone, which means it’s accessible by a pin or password. That’ll make breaking into it at some point incredibly easy. I will just have to pay close attention when he’s on his phone. Maybe I’ll be lucky, and he won’t have shit keeping me out. Then again, Brenner doesn’t strike me as that reckless and incompetent.
Collins hands me the phone when it’s ready for me to enter my phone number. I quickly type it in and hand it back, letting my fingers graze over his.
“I hope to hear from you soon, handsome,” I say, stepping into him as he hands the phone back to his friend. “But just to make sure I get that call back—I want to leave you with something.”
A little insurance never hurt anybody. Plus, that stare down between Brenner and me probably fucked me over in brownie points.
The fucker.
Collins pulls me in, much to my surprise, and dips his head down by my ear. I shudder in unease. “And what’s that?”
Despite his show of bravado, he’s nearly shaking under my touch. So, this show is more for Brenner than me. Hook, line, and sinker—this motherfucker was entirely too easy.
“Might want to hurry up before he creams his lacey bitch-ass panties,” Brenner warns and winks at me.
A laugh threatens to burst out of me, so I bite on my lip to keep it down. Collins looks less than impressed with Brenner’s comment, and I already know no truer words have been spoken tonight. I brush a soft kiss on Collins’s lips, the kind that has most people wanting more. A taste of what could follow.
When I pull away, the heat in his eyes makes me involuntarily roll my eyes. Covering my slip up, I reach up and rub my eye as if something might have been in it. I have to wonder if maybe this man is a virgin. Well, fuck me. Malia Olin—the thief of dignity, hearts, and v-cards. I swallow back another laugh and turn on my heel, making my way out of the club before my sick sense of humor gets me into trouble.
The stark difference in the cool outside air from the humid, hot club sends shivers down my spine. While I was inside, clouds rolled in, and a light mist swirls around me.
My actual phone pings in my hand, and I look down. Donovan sent a text giving his location a few blocks from the club, where he’s waiting for me. I pull out the earpiece and resist the urge to slam my foot on the fucker. I have a few words for those asshats back in the control room at home.
Making my way through the streets of downtown DC, I see my brother’s silhouette under a streetlamp a block ahead. I know he’ll reprimand me for my attitude in the club and for threatening to chop off some dick-head’s cock, but here we are. He wanted me to do this, and I caught Collins’s interest. We achieved the goal for the night, and it doesn’t matter how we got there. But he won’t see it that way.
“Good job,” Donnie says as he texts away on his phone.
I’m sure he’s giving Dad a rundown on my antics and the mission's outcome tonight. Not much surprises me, but my brother’s half-assed, unenthusiastic praise sure shocks the fuck out of me.
“But?” I prompt, waiting for him to continue.
“I’m sure you’re already aware, and I honestly don’t feel like getting into an argument with you. Especially not on the fucking street, where we can be compromised.”