Ten
TEN
I stand looking out of my front window, waiting for the moment I see Danté driving up. I ignored all of his calls and texts today because I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t tell him to fuck off after hearing from Kinsley that he did, in fact, ask Dagen out. Kins sent me a text that read ‘Boy, you better have one helluva good reason for letting D ask Dagen out before you. See you later.’ I didn’t bother replying to her either. I simply continued to read the conversation between Danté and Mal with all of the details and ending with them meeting here at my house.
I can hear a distant laughter from where Kins and Dagen get ready in the loft, and I have to close my eyes and count backwards from ten just to keep from punching through this window. My nails dig into my palms the tighter I clench my fists and my ring pinches the thin skin between my fingers.
The rumble of an engine blasts through my irritated mood and I see bright lights grow closer. It seems Danté decided to forego his bike tonight and drove his sleek black McLaren Spider. A two-seater that will only allow for he and Dagen to ride in.
Bastard .
I hear the soft click of heels and look over my shoulder to see Kinsley and Dagen walking down the main staircase and I fucking die.
Kins leads the way, a sly smile on her face, with Dagen right behind her. She wears figure hugging jeans that show off her drool inducing curves. In her right hand she holds a black leather jacket that I hope she never puts on because then I won’t be able to stare at her luscious tits that are covered by a black bra that can be seen through a sheer black, long sleeved shirt or bodysuit or whatever the fuck. It’s sexy as hell and I want to rip it to shreds.
Instead of heels that I would expect a girl to wear when going out to a bar, she wears black boots that lace up and to be honest, they’re sexier than a pair of heels.
Kins comes to stand right in front of me and looks up. “Well?” she asks, her twang thick and sweet.
“Well what, McKinsley?”
Her lips flatten into a thin line and her eyes narrow. “How do we look?”
I look at her up and down exaggeratedly then turn my attention to Dagen, doing the same and pretending I didn’t just think about whether or not she’s wearing panties to match that bra.
“You ladies look nice,” I tell them, then walk away to answer the door and give myself a breather.
The door swings wide before I have a chance to open it, and Danté stomps in wearing his usual all black outfit.
Actually, it’s the same outfit that we all usually wear. Black pants, black shirt, black shoes. I strayed from that tonight wearing a white DARE t-shirt with my black jeans and black boots.
Danté lets out a loud whistle and steps closer to Dagen.
“Damn, girl. You're fitting to burn down the house with how hot you look.” He takes her hand and spins her around, letting his eyes eat up every inch of her body.
She smiles and blushes then looks over at me. Our eyes lock and she has me spellbound. The world could come crumbling down around us right now and it wouldn’t matter because all I see is this mesmerizing woman.
“You ready?” He asks and both she and Kinsley reply with a yes.
“We’re waiting for King,” I tell D, a little gruffer than I meant for it to sound.
“King is here.” Malik walks in through the still open front door with a cheery grin as always, and his arms spread wide like he is truly the king gracing us with his presence.
“Who’s ridin’ with who?” Kinsley asks.
“Dagen’s with me and the rest of you are on your own.” Danté takes Dagen’s hand and pulls her to the door.
“Oh,” she says, looking from where his car sits to him. “I thought we would be on your bike.”
“No, baby girl. I need to see that pretty face and I can’t do that when it’s covered by a helmet.”
Her face falls and I see my chance to turn this around in my favor.
“I was planning to drive my bike, if you want to come with me,” I tell her.
“Um, well…” Dagen’s bottom lip is trapped between her teeth and she looks at one of us and then the other.
“Actually I think I’ll drive my car. Kins and Mal, you guys can come with me if you want.” I say the words that seem to be magic, because Dagen’s eyes light up like a Vegas billboard.
“You’re going to drive your Challenger?” Her voice and eyes are full of wonder, like a kid on Christmas.
I nod my head nonchalantly and tuck my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. I don’t feel like taking my bikes or my other car, and it’s probably best to take minimal cars so we aren’t all out on the roads.”
Her face freezes and I can see a thought come over her.
“Who’s on DD duty tonight?” She asks us.
I lift my hand. “I am. I don’t take chances with my green beauty.”
She turns her attention to Danté, her eyes questioning. “I mean, I wasn’t planning on a sober night.”
“Sorry. That’s my number one rule. I will not ride with anyone who drinks. I’d rather walk.”
“I won’t drink, then, if it bothers you. Now c’mon. Can we go already?” Danté grabs her hand again before she can protest and pulls her out to his car.
I nod my head for Malik and Kins to follow me and we pile into my car. “Don’t get anything dirty or you will be walking,” I warn, and we speed off after Dagen and the guy who may soon no longer be my brother.
Dagen slams back another shot along with Kins, and they wobble in their seats. Danté hangs his arm over her shoulders and watches her tongue when she swipes away the remnants of a drink called Deep Throat.
Malik ordered them for the girls, then gave me and Danté a look like the sneaky bastard he is. All night long he’s been doing little things to bait me. It’s apparent he knows I’m not really okay with Danté and how hard he’s pursuing Dagen. He’s been pouring it on thick all night and basically said everything but come fuck me in my office .
A little drop of whipped cream sits on the corner of Dagen’s lip and Danté leans over and licks it off. It startles Dagen and she jumps back right as his snake-like tongue darts out to wipe it away.
I toss the last ice cube that sits in my glass in my mouth and bite down on it.
“Be back,” I grumble, and slam my fist on the table as I slide out of the booth.
I push my way through the crowd, bypassing those who call my name, and step behind the bar.
“Do you need something, boss?” Lainey, our head bartender, asks just as she passes a drink to a customer.
“Nah, I’m good, Lainey. Just filling up my water.” She nods her chin and goes back to taking orders.
I pack my glass with ice and throw the scoop back into the bin. For about five seconds I think about filling my glass with vodka instead of water, but think better of it and grab the water spray.
“What’s wrong with you?” A terse voice asks from beside me.
I look to my right and see Danté standing there with a hazy fire in his eyes. Despite saying he wasn’t going to drink, he’s been filling that glass with more than just soda.
“Getting water. Something you should have been drinking all night instead of the jack and coke you’ve kept in your glass.”
I shoulder past him and he clamps his hand on my bicep. “I asked you a question, Henny.”
Shrugging him off of me, I take one step back, just far enough that I won’t be able to throw a punch and connect. “Nothing is wrong with me except Dagen clearly said she wasn’t going to get in a car with someone who’s been drinking. Did you even think that maybe there’s a reason why she said that? Yet here you are, throwing back drinks like alcohol is going to be banned tomorrow.”
“You had your chance with her and you let it pass. Don’t sit here and pout now that I have her.” His words are slurred and his eyes are glossy and unfocussed.
“You don’t have her, D. She came here with you. And when the night is over, she’ll be sleeping at my house. Think about that.”
I leave him standing there, fuming over my words, and return to the table where the others still sit, laughing and not missing either of us.
“Wait, wait, wait. Let me wrap my head around this. So your uncle is Phoenix West, and your other uncle is Bishop Michaels. And your other uncle owns The Wranglers. Did I get that right?” Malik rests his elbows on the table and holds his head like it can’t possibly hold another morsel of information.
“Correct.”
“How the fuck did your family get so lucky?”
She lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, maybe they aren’t family by blood. Like you and Hendrix and Danté, they formed their own family. Bishop and my dad have been friends since they were kids, and Phoenix and Bishop played baseball together in college. Phoenix married my Aunt Vivian who was a sports journalist, and she’s my mom’s best friend along with my Aunt CeCe who is married to the italian billionaire, Luca Amato, who owns The Wranglers.”
I watch Malik shake his head slowly from side to side as he tries to comprehend all of the information she just threw at him. She stays smiling, waiting for him to catch up. And when he does he says, “So can you get me tickets to a Wranglers game?”
I smack his chest and he holds his hand to it like I stabbed him.
“Sure, King. I can get you tickets. I’ll do you one better. I’ll ask my uncle to give us the owner’s suite. We can all go, and I’ll block off the cabins at my parents ranch for everyone to stay in. See a game, ride the horses, and shoot some skeet.”
“You better not leave here and forget about your promise. I’m gonna show up and you better have a room for me.” He tries to lean over the table and hug her, but slips when his hand lands on some liquid.
I move quickly to catch him before he face plants, but end up spilling my water and it splashes on Dagen. She yelps and I abandon Malik for her when she jumps back.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I scoop up the few napkins that litter the table and hand them to her.
“Déjavu,” she says and my hands stop moving.
“At least it’s not scalding coffee,” I add.
A flirty smile crosses her face. “I’m waiting for the nip slip.”
I finish dabbing her wet shirt and feel the weight of her stare. “It was more than a nip slip, little mouse.”
Her chest expands and I hear her stuttered breaths. The smell of Kahlúa fills my nostrils and I so badly want to taste it straight from her tongue.
“Maybe later, huh?” Her question surprises me and I find myself within an inch of her face, our noses practically touching and our eyes heated as they focus on each other.
“Let’s play some darts, beautiful.” Danté walks over and grabs Dagen’s hand, dragging her out of the booth.
She stumbles on her feet and follows behind him, but her eyes stay locked on me. I keep watching as they disappear in the crowd knowing where they’re headed.
“You better get after her before the devil steals her from right under your nose.” Kins whispers right into my ear and the words ‘steals her’ ring on repeat.
Despite my best efforts to leave her alone, I just can’t do it knowing that Danté might get the first taste.
Without speaking a word, I stand up and hear Kins and Mal whoop behind me. I’m pretty sure Kins says something about putting the devil in his place, but I’m too laser focused on Dagen and convincing her I’m not the jerk I’ve pretended to be.
You lasted a whole twenty-four hours, Hendrix. Chump.