28. Ford #3
Even so, she’s pretty like this. Wearing my mark, er, marks. My mouth lifts as I tilt my head, admiring my handiwork scattered across her chest. Yeah, I could definitely go again.
“What is it?” June whispers. Sitting up every so slightly, she attempts to see what I’m looking at. Before she has a chance, I tug her bra back into place, then follow it with the fabric of her shirt.
“Nothing,” I lie. If only I could be a fly on the wall when she undresses tonight and sees my handiwork.
I bet she’ll lose her shit. My mouth lifts at the thought, and I look up at her.
Neon green mixed with the black from my face paint is smudged across her cheek, forehead, and even half her neck.
Good thing it’s non-toxic. My smile grows as I continue my assessment. She looks thoroughly fucked.
“What is it?” she asks.
“How are you?”
“I mean,” she tucks her hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. “I should probably…”
The unfinished sentence hangs in the air.
“Right.” I shift off her as the black lights go out again. Moving to my feet, I dip my fingers on both hands into two of the paint cups left on the table, then I offer my right hand to June. “Come on. Let me help you up.”
She takes it, but when she feels the wet liquid on my hand, she tries to tug it away. “Ford!”
I hold on tight and pull her to her feet before grabbing her waist with my free hand and pulling her into me once more. “There. That’s better.”
The lights flicker back on and she looks down, taking in the neon yellow on her hand from when I’d pulled her up. Quirking her brow, she then takes in the hot pink handprint above her hip. “You sure this isn’t cheating?”
“Thought you said Fireman Bryan is no more,” I quip.
The girl manages to give me a glare, but she’s too damn cute to pull it off. I bend down and kiss her button nose. “Just marking my territory, is all.”
“Your territory, huh?”
“Yeah, figured I should probably return the favor.” I glance down at my crotch.
Confused, she follows my gaze. Her jaw drops when she finds the dark, wet spot front and center on my jeans, acting like a beacon for all to see. “Did you…”
“Come in my pants like a pubescent boy?” I finish for her. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
Her cheeks flush. “Oh.”
I laugh harder. “See? You’re not the only one who’s marked.”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, and a haze hits her baby blues as if she’s replaying the last fifteen minutes. “I guess, uh, I guess we’re even then.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t go that far.” I move to kiss her again when my phone buzzes in my pocket. The vibration is nothing short of a wet blanket on the moment, and I fight back my groan of annoyance. “Well, shit.”
“What is it?” June asks.
The only reason someone would call is because there’s a complication in need of my attention. And since Hawke already threw Ethan out…my head rolls forward. “I need to take this.”
“You have a phone?” she asks.
“All the Hardens have phones,” I answer. “I’ll see you later, all right?”
Her forehead wrinkles, but her head bobs in a nod.
Unable to help myself, I place one last quick peck on her stunned lips, then shift away.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I dig into my pocket, pull out my cell, and disappear into the hidden door leading to the passages throughout the walls in search of privacy.
“Better be a good reason you’re calling,” I grumble.
“Just curious if you remembered the cameras,” Roman clips out.
My feet dig into the ground. “What?”
“Already deleted the footage, but not before your sister got an eye-full.”
Cobie was watching? A stone falls in my gut, and I squeeze my eyes shut. “Shit,” I mutter.
“Yeah.”
“Anything else?”
“You hurt her, Jagger’s gonna kill you, and if he doesn’t, Cobie will.”
“Cobie?” I laugh. Jagger’s threat, sure. I saw that one from a mile away. But Cobie?
“She likes her,” Roman reveals. “And I do, too.”
Yeah, yeah. Everyone likes June. It’s impossible not to.
She’s kind and sweet and wouldn’t hurt a fly.
That’s the problem, isn’t it? Because I know she deserves better than an asshole like me.
But knowing everyone else knows it, too?
It’s kind of a bitch to wrap my head around, especially when the taste of her skin still sits on my tongue.
I scrub my hand over my face. “That all?”
“Halo’s been found,” he grumbles. “Thought you’d wanna know.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Anytime. You know that.”
He’s right. I do. If anyone has our backs, it’s Rome.
“What about the video?” I push. “Did Morgan…”
“Hawke will catch us up tomorrow,” he promises. “But no, he didn’t share the video.”
My hand hangs at my side as I end the call.
The question is, what now? Do I go back to the room?
Check on June? Play boyfriend and shit? I shake my head.
It’s a bad idea. All of it. Besides, what if she’s already gone?
I’m not sure which possibility hurts more.
At least this way, I’m the one leaving instead of the other way around. Right?
What the hell is wrong with me?