My brothers have probably already set off on their way without Rome and me, but I’ve got news for Rome. He’s not riding with me.
I wave to the red car up ahead and step forward.
For good measure, I glance behind me with my hand outstretched toward the handle and grin, only for it to be swept away a second later.
“How does it feel to be on the losing end, brother?”
Beau Pierce stands with half his team, all who share the same arrogant smirk, in front of Rome.
His fist flexes beneath the suit jacket draped over his arm. “We’re not brothers.”
I put my finger up to the Uber driver and move toward Rome. I latch onto the end of his sentence. “ –and even if you win, you still lose.”
Beau steps forward, about to start something, but I quickly dart in front of Rome. He immediately grips my waist and pulls me backward, away from his stepbrother.
Beau’s eyes flare with excitement, but it fades quickly when one of his crewmembers tugs him away.
Rome vibrates with anger behind me, his hand still locked onto my hip. He makes no move to stop glaring in the direction of Beau, so I grab his arm to pull him toward the Uber.
“Looks like you’re getting your way,” I huff. “Get in.”
Chapter Twenty
ROME
Tessa texts from beside me.
Her fingernails click against her phone screen, but I’m afraid if I look over at her, it’ll push me clear off the edge.
What was she thinking stepping in between Beau and me like that? What if he had lunged at me and she was the casualty?
My father, Beau, and apparently Vinny, don’t seem to understand that all actions have consequences. Beau would have plowed right through Tessa to get to me, and that’s because he has never been held accountable for anything in his life. The thought probably didn’t even cross his mind.
I lift my hip and pull my vibrating phone out of my pocket. It’s a text from the Halston sibling group text that I was added to without my consent.
Tess
We will need all hands on deck at Lush. Beau is already starting tiffs with Rome, and the night hasn’t even begun yet.
I slowly turn to stare at my little culprit. “I don’t need help defending myself, Princess.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear but keeps looking at her phone. “Just like I don’t need a bodyguard because of my choice of clothing.”
First, she’s wrong.
And two, this is completely different.
“I watched three bellhops stare at your ass while we walked from the elevator, one man stumbled over his own two feet because he couldn’t look away, and…”—I point at the driver—“he can’t stop looking at you in his rearview mirror.”
He quickly averts his gaze when he makes eye contact with me from the backseat.
Tessa crosses her arms. “God, you’re worse than my brothers!”
I shrug and rest my back along the seat. “You were the one who said my career was in your hands. Keeping you close and untouched means I’m keeping my career safe.”
Close?
Untouched?
