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I giggle—I can’t help myself. I have a feeling I’ll probably like Thea—now that I know her and Thomas haven’t ever been together.
“Jesus,” Dom hisses, his features pinched and showing he’s not happy.
“I am sorry, Lyla,” he mutters.
“It’s okay,” I tell him and I feel Thomas squeeze me, but the tension in his body doesn’t lessen.
“And I’m sorry for a lot of shit, T, that I guess I wasn’t even aware I was doing. I figure that doesn’t help, but I am.” Thomas doesn’t say anything and I’m silently urging him to. I don’t want there to be a rift between the brothers. I know Dom has been a jerk, but it’s clear to see that he really cares about his brother.
“We’ll talk after I get m-m-my woman settled,” Thomas says.
“Mom and Dad’s?” Dom says and Thomas nods.
Thomas breaks away to hug Dom—although stiffly and then hugs Thea. I may not be jealous of her anymore, but I can’t say I enjoy watching him wrap his arms around another woman either.
I’m a mess.
“Let’s find you a b-b-bathroom, S-s-sunflower,” he finally says and I nod, waving at the two we leave behind.
“Thomas?” I whisper when we get to the door.
“Yeah?”
“You really love me?”
“Babe,” he murmurs, sliding his hand against my throat, sending goosebumps scattering all over my skin. I bite down on my lip as I look into his eyes. They’re so dark and heated that they look like liquid metal, shining with a promise that takes my breath away.
“I’m serious, Thomas,” I respond, my voice full of nerves.
“What d-do you think we’ve b-been doing, Lyla?”
“I guess I’ve been scared to think about it, to be honest.”
His brow creases with my confession and his thumb slides against my skin. “Why scared?”
“Afraid the truth would hurt,” I finally answer. That’s the safe truth. I don’t tell him that I was scared to hear that I would always be runner-up to Gabby—or worse.
His face softens and slowly his lips move into an almost smile.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, especially t-t-to you.” I close my eyes and let the sweetness of that wash over me. It lasts for all of two seconds, because what Thomas says next shatters my calm. “You were j-j-jealous of Thea.”
I stiffen and lift my gaze to meet his. He looks so pleased with himself and I don’t know if I should let him stay that way or knock him over the head with something.
“It’s not funny, Thomas. She’s beautiful and you were so happy to see her,” I try to explain, feeling defensive.
“Thea is pr-pr-pretty,” he admits. I do my best to keep my expression neutral. “B-but I have b-beauty in my arms. Why w-w-would I want to let go of that?”
“Maybe she would suit your life better,” I mutter.
“Babe,” he laughs.
“I’m serious. I mean, there’s the whole mess between the two clubs and I know my dad gives you hell. That wouldn’t happen if you were with someone like Thea.”
“You’re having my b-b-baby.”
“That’s not exactly what a girl wants to hear as a reason her man stays with her, Thomas.”
“D-did you n-not see me when Dom tr-tr-tried to touch you?”
“You thought he was hurting me.”
“N-n-no, baby. Dom w-w-would never hurt you physically. I didn’t w-w-want him t-touching you period. You’re mine,” he murmurs.
“You were jealous?” I squeak, not quite believing what he’s saying.
“D-d-damn straight.”
“Why would you be jealous?”
“F-fuck, Ly-lyla. D-d-d-do you n-n-not see who y-y-you’ve t-t-tied y-y-yourself to?”
He’s getting upset. I cup my hand against the side of his neck and caress him. There are so many layers to Thomas that I’m not sure I will ever unveil them all.
“I know exactly who I’m tied to.”
“Lyla…”
“From the night you walked over to my table, Thomas, there was never going to be anyone else for me.”
“Babe…”
“Even when my heart was broken and I thought you belonged to someone else, I still belonged to you.”
He grabs me and backs me up against the wall, his mouth crashing down on mine. He picks me up as if I weigh next to nothing. I wrap my legs around him, his fingers biting into my thighs as his tongue pillages my mouth, waging a war against mine. He growls into my mouth and the sound echoes with the blood rushing through my ears as I lift his shirt. My nails bite into his skin as I hold onto him.
“Fuck, woman,” he hisses, biting at my lips as my head goes back to draw oxygen.
“Thomas.” His name comes out in trembling syllables—my breath broken as desire and hunger fuel my pleasure.
“We h-h-have to stop.”
My body instantly jerks in protest. “Why?” I whimper. I don’t care if we are in a public place, stopping is the last thing I want to do.
“You said you n-needed t-t-to use the r-r-r-restroom and m-m-my family will be w-w-waiting,” he answers, grimacing as he does his best to get the words out. It makes me smile, because I know that stopping is the last thing he wants to do.
