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“It wasn’t a near miss.” He holds up his right hand. “I nailed that fucker good.”
Milo should be thanking the guy he decked since he claimed to the responding officer that my younger brother didn’t land a punch. Male pride must have been the motivating factor behind that lie.
“What did he do to you?”
Milo rakes a hand through his dark brown hair. “Not me. It’s what he did to a woman who wanted nothing to do with him.”
Leave it to my brother to step in when no one asked him to.
“What exactly happened?” I press.
“Why the hell does it matter now?” he shoots back. “Thanks to you, I was released with a warning. It’s over.”
I stare at him and repeat myself, “What exactly happened?”
“He thought buying a woman a drink meant he had carte blanche to do whatever the fuck he wanted. A dirty martini doesn’t give anyone license for an ass grab.”
I should be pissed that I was dragged out of Declan’s wedding for this, but Milo was once again playing the role of hero.
“You’re thirty years old,” I remind him. “You own a business that is about to break the million dollar mark. Don’t give your investors reason to regret anything.”
“You invested in Nitespark,” he reminds me. “Do you regret it?”
“Every damn day,” I lie.
The truth is that the hundred grand I dropped in his palm to help fund his latest app was one of the best investments I’ve ever made. It launched less than three months ago and already has a solid client base. Advertisers are jumping at the chance to get on board.
I can’t say I’m surprised. Milo is a tech genius. This latest app is the third in a row to hit it big for Thorsen Tech Incorporated. However, none of the previous ones had the same momentum right out of the gate as Nitespark.
“You can head back to the wedding.” He punches my bicep. “If there are any available women there, I’ll tagalong.”
I hadn’t noticed any other women at the wedding because I was laser focused on a beauty in a green dress.
I can’t stop thinking about Carrie’s confession.
“Where the fuck did your mind jump to just now?” Milo asks. “Did you meet someone tonight?”
“No,” I answer honestly since I met Carrie a few months ago.
“Let’s head over to Howerton House.” He skims a hand over the front of his blue button-down shirt. “I look wedding ready, don’t I?”
I rake him over.
We’re the same height and likely close in weight. We sport the same color eyes, and although Milo’s hair is a different color than mine, we resemble one another. Our look is less similar since I decided to grow a beard.
Typically, I’ll shave the stubble after a couple of days, but my beard is filling in at this point, and I don’t mind the look. Kirby doesn’t either. She commented on Declan’s beard when he started growing one, so I hopped on board that train to put a smile on her face, and, for now, I don’t miss my razor.
I drop my gaze to my watch. “It’ll be winding down by now. I’ll buy you a drink at a bar around the corner if you promise to keep your fists to yourself.”
“Why the hell do you have to suck all the fun out of everything?” he asks with a smirk.
I laugh, jerking a thumb over my shoulder. “We just spent two hours in there sorting through your latest fuck up. We’re not coming back here for round two tonight.”
“I’ll take you up on the drink offer.” He pats my shoulder. “I can’t make any promises about what happens after that.”
“Fine.” I tap the center of his chest. “One drink, and then I’m heading home.”“Don’t sell yourself short, Rook.”
My left eyebrow perks. “What the fuck does that mean?”
