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Taking a drag, I wait for an answer.
Zayn looks vaguely annoyed. “She won’t stop harping on me about quitting smoking. I had to run by her office for some documents today, and she handed me some fucking pamphlets about my liver.”
I wince. “Ouch. What’d you do?”
He gives me a satisfied grin. “Tore them up right in front of her.”
Then his tone sours. “She didn’t even blink. Just emailed the fucking information to me.”
I laugh. “She’s worried about you.”
Zayn lets out a stream of smoke and scowls. “I’ve dropped down to a pack a day, haven’t I? What
more does she want?”
I shrug my broad shoulders. “Don’t ask me. I’m not getting dragged into this.”
Zayn glares at me. “I’m telling you, she’s taken an oath to make my life miserable. If it’s not smoking, it’s my tattoos.”
I check the new one on the side of his neck and admit, “Well, you do have a lot of them.”
When he gives me an icy look, I grin. “Not that I’m complaining.”
As he stews in silence, I can’t help but notice one of the anti-smoking pamphlets sticking out of Zayn’s back pocket.
“If she stops annoying you with these things, you’ll get bored and start missing her. You two are more like siblings than her and Philip.”
When Zayn bares his teeth at me, I remind him, “Just last week, you two started fighting over the TV remote. That’s classic sibling syndrome.”
His icy blue eyes are faintly annoyed. “I was watching the match first.”
“It was her house.”
Zayn doesn’t get a chance to respond because the same server who came to tell me about his arrival opens the back door and informs me, “A fight broke out at the bar. Should we call the police or do you want to handle it?”
“Agatha’s at the bar.”
Zayn is right behind me as I rush inside.
Reaching the front end of the bar, I take a breath of relief to see Agatha standing with her phone in her hand, eyeing the two men fighting with disgust in her eyes.
I glance at Zayn, who jerks his chin towards her, telling me to get her out of the way while he deals with this.
Nodding, I grab Agatha and pull her to a safe distance. But before I can go and help Zayn out, I see him throw a punch at one of the hefty guys, who stumbles backward into the startled-looking woman two tables down from me.
I jump to her rescue, but the man falls into her, knocking her down.
She cries out, startled, and her face hits the side of the table as she goes down.
Picking up the unconscious man, I toss him aside and rush over to the dazed woman. She groans with pain, and I help her sit up, kneeling by her side. As I help her up, her hair brushes the side of my face.
A sweet rose smell.
I look down into the most stunning eyes I have ever seen. Light forest-green eyes give me a dazed look, and when her knees weaken, I hold her up against me.
She is a tiny thing with dangerous curves that make my hands twitch, and I have to get them under control.
Seeing the large bruise forming on the side of her face, I feel my blood stir, cold fury racing in my veins. “Shit. Let me take you to the ER.”
