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“Understandable. He was a fine piece of ass. I get it. Must suck to have to let that go.”
I flash back to King’s ass. The skin pale compared to the rest of his tanned body, those perfectly round cheeks. The broad plane of muscle stretching across his back, the sharp cut of his triceps.
A pain stabs me deep in the chest, spreading into a dull, thudding ache.
“Thanks, Sabby.”
“Anytime, girl.” She bobs her head, not picking up on the sarcasm.
“Hey, I’m really sorry about my brothers coming in and hurting you.”
She brushes me off, shrugging, the bright blue tips of her hair moving up and down over her shoulders. “Family. What can you do?”
“They’re complete dickheads.”
“Aww, sis. Such a nice compliment, coming from you.”
Gritting my teeth so hard my jaw aches, I spin toward the familiar voice.
“Get the hell out of here, Cash,” I hiss across the bar, keeping my volume low so as not to make a scene.
“What? No, why? I came in for some chips and salsa and an ice-cold cerveza.” He draws the word out in a terrible Spanish accent.
“Go somewhere—anywhere—else. I don’t give a shit where, just get the hell out of my face.” Anger bubbles up inside me, my empty fist balling at my side. I grab the rest of the drink order, hurrying before I lose my cool.
I slide around the bar with the heavy, loaded tray, and Damon appears out of nowhere, blocking me.
“Did you give your new friend a name yet?” His thin lips curl up into a sneer, and Cash chuckles at the stupid joke.
“I hate you. Move.” I try to get around him, but now Cash is blocking me on the other side, and I’m boxed in.
“Did you like him? We thought he was pretty cute. Thoughtful of Jagger, wasn’t it?” Cash says.
“Get the fuck outa here. I’m working.” I turn sideways, attempting to shimmy out from between them, but Cash grips my waist and holds me in place.
“Get your hands off me, Cash. Right now.”
“Bet you don’t say that to the prince. Where is he, by the way? Thought for sure he’d be here.” Cash peers around the Tipsy, trying to spot King.
“He’s not here, okay? Now bounce. The ice is melting in these drinks.” I squirm in his grip, his thumbs pressing into my hip bones so hard I’m sure I’ll have a bruise.
“You heard what she said. Get off her. Now.” King’s deep voice rumbles behind me, low and menacing.
“You’re such a lying bitch, Juliet,” Cash hisses, spittle flying from his lips. But he drops his hand from my waist, edging away from me.
King takes a long stride forward, standing toe to toe with Cash, their chests inches away from each other.
“Don’t talk to her like that. And if you touch her again—or her friend—I will personally break every one of your fucking fingers, one at a time. Got me?”
Anger flashes in Cash’s eyes, but he’s not a total moron. After living with Jagger for so long, he knows when he’s about to get his ass kicked. Wisely, he takes another step back, moving to stand beside Damon. A brotherly united front.
“Whatever, Prince. You can have the little tramp. She’s a fucking traitor anyway. Good riddance.” Cash brushes his hands together, wiping himself clean of me.
“Yeah, she’s stupid anyway. You can have her. And her little rat pet,” Damon chimes in.
“Scram, assholes.” King waves his hand toward the door, and my brothers puff out their chests and swagger away.
I exhale, cool relief rushing through me, quickly replaced by aggravation.
