“She killed it,” he says.
“It was too much. It was not something we agreed to,” I say, taking a sip of my drink.
“I thought you said she couldn’t work at the Cockpit,” he objects.
“Exactly,”
“The dance routine isn’t actually part of the waitress’s job. That was all Brynn’s idea.”
“Still. I don’t know how I feel about–”
Andrew interrupts again. “About what? About your girl being the hottest in the room? About her catching everyone off guard by finishing Brynn’s routine in a cocktail dress and lacy panties?”
“How the fuck do you know what her panties look like?” I bark.
“Dom. The entire room saw what her panties looked like.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” I mutter. “The room has no right to know about her panties, yourself included.”
“Somebody sounds territorial,” he says, biting back a smile and doing a shitty job of it.
“She’s mine!” I snap, realizing what I’ve said only after I've said it.
Andrew just raises his eyebrows and takes a drink. His face says what his mouth doesn’t; everything packed into one small expression. I guess we have that in common–loud faces.
“I don’t know what came over me,” I say. “We got home, and she was just on this high. Smiling. Humming. Happy…” I rattle off.
“God, I hate that in a woman,” Andrew says sarcastically.
“I was just…fuming. She’s so…” I struggle in vain to find the word I want, realizing that nothing I can come up with comes even remotely close to describing the way I feel about her. Maybe because I don’t know how I feel. Or maybe whatever I’m feeling is something I haven’t felt before. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. It’s irritating.
“So what happened next?” he asks, leaning back in his chair. He’s loving every minute of this.
“I went into my office. Thought, maybe if I got some work done, I could just forget about it. I couldn’t concentrate, so I went to the liquor cabinet to make a drink, but I knew it wouldn’t help. The problem wasn’t in my head.”
“Nope. Not the one on your shoulders, anyhow,” he says.
“So I stomped over to her room and found her dancing again. When I saw that, I ripped into her, and Mila fought back. Things got heated and then…”
“Things got heated?”he grins. “Damn brother. I don’t know why you’re not enjoying this; that is hot!”
“But it wasn’t supposed to happen!” I argue.
“According to who?” he asks.
“It’s against the rules,” I state.
“Rules thatyouwrote, my friend. I’m pretty sure the author has the power to revise, or 86 that shit. Who knows, if it’s that hot in private, your relationship will have a lot more chemistry in public. And you’re going to need all the authenticity you can to convince your dad that this isn’t a ruse. Especially since, well, it’s a ruse.”
He’s not wrong. Annoying, maybe, but not wrong. Still, that’s not what we agreed to.
“She didn’t fight me about it,” I say. “I mean, after we finished screaming at each other, I tossed her on the bed. I thought she might have thought it was too much or too forceful, but there was nothing forced about it. She wanted me. She wantedeverything that happened. Begged for it even,” I say, wiping my hand down my face and realizing that I am sweating.
“Sounds to me like you two need to rewrite that contract. Or, at the very least, add another clause. A benefits clause, if you will,” he says with a smug smile.
My attention slides back to Mila, who is sipping what looks like a soda and laughing with Bianca and one of the waitresses. Half the room is watching her, which makes my blood boil. Then, as if she canfeelmy eyes on her, her gaze sweeps in my direction and she smiles sweetly. It’s enough to simmer my blood down a little and make my heart thrum against my ribs.
“She is the best I’ve ever had,” I admit. “In every way.”
