I close the space between us in two steps. And then, knowing full well that everyone is looking, I kiss her.
Not long. Not hard. Just enough to impress on her—and everyone else—who owns her now.
Me.
19
RANSOME
“I’m telling you guys, if you want a girl to put out on the first date, you have to have a Hemi,” Maverick says as Baron spots him over the bench.
We are at the gym, a private CrossFit style place in a warehouse that most people think is abandoned. Of course, people know it’s Rozanov territory, so everyone knows better than to come around.
“You need a car to get laid?” Baron asks, putting the bar back in place while Mav sits up. I come here to spend time with my best friend and my cousin, away from my dad and work and every other pain in my ass.
“I don’t need anything to get laid.” He stands up, his chest puffed.
“Just a Hemi,” Baron jabs.
I am doing pull-ups, ignoring both of them. As much as I typically appreciate the guy talk, it’s annoying me today. Everything is annoying me today.
“Listen. That car has done laps around you and your dry dick and the Chadovichs for years.”
“Okay, Zuko. Don’t get your panties in a wad.” Baron laughs and starts to walk around Mav, but Mav jabs him.
“Can we not talk about the Chadovichs?” I snap between pulls.
“Tristan is getting cockier and cockier by the minute.” Mav blows around what I just said and shoves Baron with a dumb grin on his face, his signature fight-picking expression.
“What do you expect?” Baron asks, knocking him back.
“I expect him to stay in his own lane, both on the streets and off. But I guess that’s kind of difficult when Ransome here is banging Tristan’s cousin.”
With that I drop from the bar, sauntering over to him. “I’m not banging Jenica.”
“And that’s why you’re in such a dickish mood lately,” Mav says, swinging at Baron, but I catch his fist before it makes contact with my cousin’s face.
“I’m in a dickish mood because I am trying to run a fucking empire,” I snarl. “We’ve got trucks with my name on them carrying almost a thousand pounds of powder per, and I am set to marry a woman I have no interest in even speaking to, and all you two and anyone else can talk about is beating Tristan Chadovich in a fucking street race!”
Baron stops. His smile wanes a little, because he knows. He knows Tristan and racing and everything surrounding the Chadovichs is bad blood for me.
Mav, on the other hand, doesn’t know when to quit. An irritating quirk of his that’s going to end in him having less teeth than eyes if he doesn’t shut the fuck up and quick.
“This new mood of yours doesn’t have anything to do with your sassy little assistant, does it?” Mav has the gall to shove me a little, a cocky grin on his face. He’s always had nerve, and right now, he’s on my last one.
“Watch it,” I warn him.
Baron tosses us our gloves. And while I’m not in the mood for sparring, I wouldn’t mind knocking him on his ass.
We suit up and hop in the ring. Immediately, Maverick goes for it. I duck out of it and pop him hard in the teeth.
But Maverick smiles through it. “So youarefucking the help. I knew it.”
“Watch your tongue or fucking lose it!”
“Why is it a sore subject?” Mav asks as we turn and dodge each other, managing a few clips here and there. “She’s quite the filly.”
“I’m not fucking her,” I grit out.
