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Nick grinned. “It was delicious. Good choice, cousin.”
With a shake of his head, Mick turned back to the bar and stared at the racks of bottles and glasses on the other side. Behind them, the wedding reception partied on. He could feel Owen and Nick studying him.
What should he do? This whole feeling for Zeta had blindsided him so much. Healwaysknew what to do.Alwayshad the answer.Always.
But now…
What if Zetadidlaugh in his face when he told her how he felt?
What if she says she feels the same?
He thought of not getting to see her anymore. He thought of her flying back to the U.S. to care for her cheetahs and not seeing her for who knew how long.
A heavy weight pressed on his chest, and his breath quickened. Grew shallow.
Holy shit, what was this? A panic attack? Seriously?
Was he seriously freaking the fuck out at the thought of not getting to see Zeta De Luca?
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Hey?” A hand squeezed his shoulder and gave it a shake. “Hey, Mick? You okay?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, held it for a few heartbeats, turned to Owen, and let it out.
His brother stared at him, frowning. Nick did the same.
“You look like you were about to pass out, cousin,” the rock star said.
“I’m okay.” He let out a wobbly breath. “I just…need to get my head around things.”
Owen squeezed his shoulder again. “What you need to do, brother, is go put a shirt on.”
Mick laughed.
Owen slapped him on the back, grinning. “You know what you have to do, Mick. You always do.”
“And on that note,” Nick Blackthorne pushed himself away from the bar, “I’m going to go find my wife, kiss her stupid, and ask her to dance with me.” He pointed at Mick. “Stop fucking about, cousin, and do it. Tell her how you feel. Show her.”
Stop fucking about…
“Hey, Nick,” Mick called as the rock star started to walk away.
Nick turned back. “Yeah?”
Stop fucking about. Tell her how you feel. Show her.
Mick straightened, pulling in another breath. “Can I ask a favor?”
* * *
“Where’s Mick?”Zeta stopped her stomping stride and fixed Bria—currently snuggled up against Owen’s side at the bridal table—with a stern look.
“Mick?” Bria pulled a confused face and looked at her new husband. “Do we know anyone called Mick?”
Owen chuckled, kissed her temple, and grinned at Zeta. “I got sick of him parading around without a shirt on and told him to go find one. Ab-envy is real between brothers, I’m afraid.”
Zeta’s pulse kicked up a notch. “So he’s…”
