I twist around to find him leaning so close, it sends a pulse of heat through me. His dark eyes flick over the mess, then back at me. I can’t help but take every inch of him in—and there are a lot of inches.The leather jacket looks even better up close, stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and I notice for the first time the dark tattoo peeking from under his sleeve and running down over his knuckles. It’s something intricate but hard to make out. The intensity in his stare pins me in place.
“Clean it up,” he says, voice deep and controlled.
Is he demanding I clean up the cake from the sidewalk?
Panic starts to rise in my throat. I’m not even certain I can bend to pee in this dress, let alone clean icing off of concrete.
Demi smirks but seems to back off, thrown by his no-nonsense tone. The air feels charged, electric, and my emotions tear. I’m aching to cry, half desperate for the comfort of sweatpants and half tempted to see where this tension leads by biting back.
I stay rooted in place though, stuck in the wreckage of my ruined cake, while the bartender’s sharp gaze tracks from the frosting-covered sidewalk to the behemoth in front of me, clearly recognizing who’s on cleanup duty. “Okay, Hex.”
The man in the pressed jeans walks down the steps. Without a word, he raises his palm out to Demi who hands over the container. He bends down and uses the container’s cover to scrape the cake’s contents back into the box. I can’t help but admire the precision of the way he handles it. Demi observes him, her expression unfazed by the carnage being removed from the sidewalk. But I find there's something so...fascinatingabout the way he keeps it all together. When he’s done, he grabs the towel from his back pocket and wipes his hands clean.
My eyes land back onHex. He’s not the kind of man who messes around.
Big guy’s name is Hex. He is in charge.
And right now, he’s watching me. Watching us. Heat flares in my chest, undeniable and intense. What gets me is that behind that implacable look, I catch glimpses of something darker, more complicated—like he's feeling this tension too but keeping it locked down. The last thing I expect is for it to stir something inside me.
“We aren’t getting in now, are we?” I ask, with a nervous laugh.
Hex doesn’t smile, doesn’t even flinch. “I’m letting you in, but if she keeps this up, you’re both out. Got it?”
Demi shrugs. She hooks my arm and leans in. With a wicked grin and loud enough for all three men to hear says: “Cake got bounced, but that’s no biggie. Let’s find a warm mouth to gorge on our red-velvety sweet spots instead.”
I shake my head, already dreading the chaos that will become this night. “I’ll be lucky if I make it through tonight without her setting fire to something.”
Hex raises an eyebrow. “Watch your back, birthday girl.”
I’m standing outside, leaning against the brick wall of Ruin's End, talking shop with JT—my kid brother and our bouncer. He’s just as solid as I am, but where my presence keeps people in check, JT’s easy going demeanor makes them forget what he’s capable of. Stupid mistake. I taught him how to fight, and at the drop of a hat, he could put someone on the ground before they even realized they fucked up.
We’re going over the night, and I’m hoping things stay quieter than last Friday. I’m not in the mood for another repeat of that mess.
“I don’t expect any trouble tonight,” I tell him. “If anything pops off, just give me a shout. I don’t want you dealing with shit alone.”
JT smirks, rolling a toothpick between his teeth. “Man, you act like I don’t live for a little entertainment.” He scans the street, unbothered, cool as ever. “But yeah, I got you. It’s been slow so far. We’re probably in the clear.”
I exhale through my nose. “Good. Keep it that way.”
JT chuckles. “Sure thing. I’ll tell the drunks to schedule their dumbassery for another night.” He leans back, stretching his arms over his head, the picture of someone without a care in the world. But I know better.
He’s a coiled spring, waiting to be triggered and snap.
He won’t hesitate.
I’m just about to push off the wall when I see them coming around the corner. Short and spicy, the redhead bounces for the door, energy bright and unapologetic, moving as though the space already belongs to her. She’s holding a cake—of course. Will will be pissed. But it’s not her I’m focused on.
It’s her friend.
Tall. So damn tall. She walks with a kind of grace that stops you dead in your tracks. At least five-foot-ten if I’m guessing right, but the heels make her six foot easy. She knows how to carry herself. The black dress she’s wearing is... well, it’s the kind of dress that makes you think of dropping to your knees in surrender. It’s the perfect balance between sexy and strong, hugging her in all the right places, making it damn near impossible for me not to look.
JT tilts his head slightly, amused. “You seein’ what I’m seein’, big bro?” he mutters just low enough for me to catch.
I don’t answer. I don’t have to. We have the same taste in women.
Her legs stretch endlessly, sculpted and strong, the kind of presence that turns movement into authority. She has that focused look. Her long, dark brown hair falls in waves, the streetlight picking up those sun-kissed highlights at the edges. And her big brown eyes pull you in, making you forget whatever the hell you were thinking. She’s poised but wary, too controlled for someone just looking to have a good time. Or maybe it’s just that she doesn’t seem to belong here. And yet somehow, she fits anyway.
As they approach the door, JT barely moves. He’s leaning against the windows that line the front of Ruin's End, arms crossed. He’s about to let them in—no hesitation—until the tall one walks past.
