“Sure. Take my spot, I’m out.”
Logan chokes on a laugh beside me, while Sam suddenly finds something fascinating above our heads.
I turn my head then, giving her a proper look out of courtesy more than anything else.
She’s beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that.
But she is just another passerby.
Ta-ta, take care, bye-bye now…be gone, thot.
My hand slides around Seraphina’s waist, as I draw her into my side.
She melts into me instinctively, her body aligning with mine as though there has never been a version of the world where we were not like this.
I try to make room, pressing through the crowd gathered around us. Some, definitely against casino policy, have their phones out.
Naughty, naughty. If I’d just lost, I might’ve made a scene.
Whispers of Burnt Ashes, of my name, circle low. People watch without quite crossing the line. Niko’s men hold the edges of the space in sharp suits and sharper stares, especially one of the Igors, his pointed brow carrying a clear, silent warning.
The blonde I’d already dismissed slips her hand onto my upper arm, fingers digging in. “So,” she says lightly, “are you going to introduce me?”
What the actual fuck?
Unhand me, devil woman.
My arm tightens around Seraphina as I glance down at her, something colder settling beneath the surface of my calm.
“Sure thing, crazy,” I say evenly, deliberately looking at the woman in my arms. “This is my wife.”
Seraphina’s fingers curl softly into my shirt, and something deeply satisfied shifts through me.
I try to move us along, but the newcomer doesn’t take the hint.
“I can share…” she purrs.
Sam scoffs. Of course he does. He and Chace are the only single ones here.
Go bother baldy-locks. Sniff around Slaphead Sammy. Don’t ruin the vibe I’ve got with my wifey.
“Babe,” I say out loud, glancing at Sera, already regretting putting her on the spot, “what do you say—want to share me?”
I feel the tension shift. If she doesn’t shut this down, and security or Niko’s men don’t step in, Mac absolutely will.
“I would rather shit in my hands and clap.”
It probably sounds completely out of left field to anyone else—to the band, to the people watching. Sure, some of them might say I’ve been a terrible influence, corrupted something pure and innocent, all that yada-yada bullshit.
But it’s more than that. So much fucking more.
Seraphina, my Dove, my wife, my nun no longer on the run, just dropped that line—verbatim—from the show we’ve been binge-watching.
That’s right. My sweet, innocent girl just pulled a quote from Geordie Shore and rammed it straight down this blonde’s throat.
And fuck—I am so hard for her right now.
Jesus… I want her to insult me.
