Maybe she should. Make-up sex, even though we didn’t fight, is something else. Then again... “You get on my nerves enough as it is.” I clasp my hand on her throat, closing her lips with mine. “Go and take a long bath. Read a book or watch a movie. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be good.”
“That’d be a first.”
She chuckles, whacking me over the head playfully. “Go, you’re late.” She grabs her good-for-nothing panties off the floor, stuffing the lacy, ripped scrap in the back pocket of my trousers. “Something to remind you of what’s waiting for you, right here.”
With a peck on my cheek and a wink, she walks away. Once she disappears upstairs, I enter the kitchen where Grace sits at the breakfast bar, cheeks scarlet, eyes wide.
“Next time I tell you to leave, youleave.Understood?”
She bobs her head vigorously. “I’m sorry, I-I... it’s just that I didn’t think you’d—”
“That I’ll have sex with my fiancée while you’re in the next room? Lesson learned; I trust. Next time, don’t assume. This is my house. If I want her, I’ll have her wherever I feel like it.”
“Yes, lesson learned. I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Layla
Piles of papers litter the coffee table: lecture notes that Rookie kindly brought for me courtesy of Jane. I haven’t missed much yet, but there’s no telling when I’ll attend classes again, so I’d rather stay on top of the material while I have time.
Despite the ambitious plan to study, I only managed an hour before I was forced to call it a day, pushing the papers aside. Now, I’m at the breakfast bar with my laptop. Three pretty faces watch me from the screen. When he stopped by earlier, Rookie explained that neither he, Nate, nor Cai want to risk their girls’ safety by letting them pay me a visit.
The comforting news is, theywantto visit.
Since we can’t make a girl's night happen in reality, we settled for a virtual chat with a very real glass of wine. The three of them met at Bianca’s house, dressed as if we’re hitting the club later.
“Jeez, I’m glad you’re back, girl. We need a night out! The last time I danced was with you in Delta.” Bianca adjusts her pink, strapless dress, which barely contains her large boobs.
“That sure won’t happen anytime soon.” Luna pulls a face. “Layla’s not allowed outside the front door. No way Dante will let her out of the house until the hit is closed.”
“True. I don’t know how you keep so calm! I’d be freaking out if there was a bounty on my head.”
Jane elbows Bianca under the ribs, offering me a tight-lipped smile. “Don’t listen to her. She’s already drunk. You’ll be okay. Dante will skin the fucker who’s overseeing the hit, and we will all go dancing soon.”
Surprise, surprise. I’m not the only naïve one out there.
“Don’t hold your breath.”
They stare into the camera on their laptop and consequently right at me.
“Oh, hell no. What was that supposed to mean?” Jane frowns. “Where’s the negativity coming from?”
“Can we please change the subject?” I grab a bottle to refill my glass. “Anything but the hit. It’s bad enough. I think about it twenty-four seven. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sure, and I know just the topic!” Luna bounces in her seat, spilling a bit of red wine down her cleavage. “Bitch, you’reengagedtoDante fucking Carrow! We want to know everything!”
“Yeah, but first, show us that big ass rock!”
I raise my hand, showing off the diamond, still not quite accustomed to the thought that Dante wants me forever.
They bombard me with wedding ideas, shouting one after the other as they devise the most insane settings. Monaco, Hawaii, Seychelles. The last one does have a ring to it, and once I check the pictures online, I’m officially in love with the idea of a beach wedding.
It’ll remain just that: an idea. There’s no way in hell Dante will share my enthusiasm.
Ten o’clock comes and goes; the bottle of wine beside me is almost dry. My mood lifts while alcohol silences my screaming mind and pushes the problems to the background.