Jamie grins, leaning in close. “You see the rack on that new blonde girl?”
I turn on him so fast he actually blinks. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
He laughs, confused. “What?”
“I’m serious, Jamie. Stay the fuck away… from her…”
He squints, still grinning, trying to read me. “Why? What’s the deal? You fucked her already?” He shrugs, casual. “You know I’ve got no problem sharing, man. Just give me the heads-up.”
I shake my head, jaw tight, heart slamming against my ribs. “It’s not like that, Jamie. It’s complicated––”
“Complicated?” He raises his brows, amused. “You?”
I can’t explain it here. Not with those green eyes burning into my back from across the room. Not with the weight of Rico still sitting on my shoulders, Victor’s voice still ringing in my ears.
“Let’s go,” I say, turning back toward the bar, needing distance before I do something stupid.
Jamie follows, still laughing under his breath, still full of questions. “What the hell is happening, Miles? I don’t get it. She’s hot, she’s new, and you’re acting like she’s radioactive. What, did she see something?”
I down the rest of my beer in one swallow, the burn sharp in my throat. “She’s fucking trouble, that’s what.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind.
And maybe I have. Because all I can see when I close my eyes is her in that cheer uniform, tied up, and crying.Fucking crying.All I can remember is the way I spanked her, how good it had felt.
One summer later and the sight of her has me on edge.
She’s going to recognize me. I glance down at my arms. If not my eyes, then my tattoos.
Fuck!
7
Jamie
Myhandsarebusywiping down glasses, but my head keeps replaying Miles’s words, the sharp edge in his tone when he told me to stay the hell away from the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.
Never in all the years I have known him has Miles ever stepped between me and a woman. Never. Not once. He does not give a shit who I fuck, who I flirt with, or how messy I make it. He just looks the other way and smirks because he knows I will figure my own shit out. But tonight? He looked at me like I was about to stick my hand in a fire, and for the life of me I cannot stop wondering why.
I glance over at him now, my best friend hunched on his stool, a cigarette burning between his fingers. Smoke curls lazily around him, fogging the space, softening the hard lines of his jaw, but nothing hides that haunted look in his eyes. Whatever happened before he got here is sitting heavy on him, dragging him under.
And me? I am fucking curious.
Because all I know is that she is the girl who walked in the bathroom while I had that flute girl on her knees. The only thing I can remember about that moment, beyond the obvious, was her face. Her eyes. Wet and wide, rimmed red like she had been crying. She is too pretty for a place like this and she looks equally as out of place in my family’s dive bar. Too soft, like someone who belonged in a painting, not on a barstool in The Crest.
And now Miles has stated she is off-limits.
What the fuck did she do to him?
“Jamie.” Bella’s voice cuts through my thoughts, high and sweet, pulling my gaze away. She bounces up to the bar, ponytail swishing, lips still swollen from earlier. She leans forward, elbows pressing her cleavage together, and beams at me. “We need shots. For me and the girls.”
I toss the rag aside and reach for the bottles. “How many?”
She taps her finger against her chin, pretending to think. “Five. No—six. No, make it seven. You know what? Just line up the whole damn tray.”
I laugh under my breath, shaking my head as I start pouring. Tequila splashes into the row of glasses, clear and sharp. Bella watches me like I am the entertainment, her smile bright and careless.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her glance toward Miles. He is still hunched, cigarette burning low, shoulders tight. Bella smirks and nudges him with her hip. “What about you, big guy? You should come join us. Maybe we’ll let you do some body shots.” Her tone is teasing, sing-song, deliberately provocative.
