I hear everything he says, but the only thing that bounces around the walls of my brain iswomen like you.“What do you mean ‘women like me?’” The words come out harsher than I intend, but I don’t correct myself.
He bites his lip with a smile and shakes his head lightly. “Strong. Independent.Stubborn.”Easton moves again.
He had me almost swooning in the first half, but if all my reading of alpha-assholes like him has taught me anything, it’s that menlike himare douchebags. They’re hard and unapologetic, strong and ruthless, and most of all—they will kill for what they love. Even if that isn’t Easton, the only way I’m going to get through the night is picturing him as such.
I roll my eyes and let the conversation die as we stop at the end of the bar.
“I’ll take a Gale Brasileiro, and she’ll have a glass of Prosecco,” he orders without looking at the bartender and sets the old flutes on the counter.
“Really did your digging, huh?” I mumble after I hear him order my preferred drink.
“You already know I did,” he replies with a wink.
The bartender sets our order in front of us, Easton’s in a whiskey tumbler and mine in a wine glass. I wrap my fingers around the frosted glass, desperate for another.
“Shouldn’t we be having Fuerte? That is why you dragged me here tonight. To celebrate.”
He scoffs with a smirk, and for whatever reason, the sound sends flutters across my skin. He always seems so serious. A smile looks good on him, regardless of how small a grin it is.
“That’s my brother’s thing. And whiskey isn’t your style—research remember.” He tilts his head to the side before taking a sip.
“Jude?”
He questions me with his eyes.
“This is his party?” I ask while waving my arms around.
Easton steps closer to me and with the hand that houses his drink, he points to the man from the stage. “No, not Jude. His name’s Emilio, one of my other brothers.” He nods to the man onstage.
“Is he a dick like Jude?”
He laughs, and I use my drink to hide the grin that wants to creep on my face in response.
“We all are, sweetheart.”
A loud thump pours from the speakers, and I turn my head toward the stage again. Music starts to play, a low sultry melody filling my ears as the musician prepares for his set.
I’m too far away to be sure, but the musician is tall, probably a little over six feet. He’s dressed in a deep-red suit with a matching tie and a black shirt. I only notice because it pops against his deep-brown skin.
He smiles at the crowd, seating himself behind a grand piano while adjusting his mic. “How’s everybody doing tonight?” He pauses for our response then continues. “I’m Leaon, and I’ll be serenading you this evening. But first, let’s give a quick clap to celebrate my brother on this accomplishment.”
I stare at him then at Easton, checking for a resemblance as everyone else does as he suggests. Curiosity floods me because they look nothing alike; come to think of it, none of them do. Not Easton, Jude, Emilio, and this guy. I find myself wondering if they’re related at all, or some super-deep bond between friends.
Easton drops his gaze to mine, catching the questions written in the lines of my face. Soon the cheers are stifled by the sound coming from the piano. I recognize the song; though slightly different, I’d spot Luther Vandross’s hits anywhere.
Knowing Easton won’t answer me, I focus my attention back on the stage. But almost as if he reads my mind, he leans in to whisper in my ear.
“I see your mind working again, amore.” His breath teases at the space behind my ear.
Shyly, I fix my head in his direction, but I don’t peer up at him. He’s on my left and he’s close to me, one half of his front pressed into my back.
“How come you all look so different?” I mutter, but it seems he hears me anyway.
Leaning in again, he presses his mouth to my ear, kissing me there before letting out another breath. “Our father adopted us, so we’re a pretty diverse bunch. Emilio’s mother was Hispanic, Leaon is African American–if you can’t see that for yourself.”
The end of his statement is snarky, but I choose to ignore it.
“How many of you are there?”
