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“That was crazy. First I thought you were going to kill them. Then I thought they were going to kill you.”
Laz waves away my concern. “Please, I had the upper hand the entire time.”
“Yeah, you had the upper hand with your nuts when Michael slammed them with his knee.”
He winces. “Be nice about my nuts.” He pulls the phone out of his pocket and holds it up. “Are you going to tell me what this photo is and how they really got it?”
The smile dies on my face. Laz doesn’t believe my lie about not wearing a sports bra during gym class. When I don’t answer, he rolls down his window and throws the phone out. It sails away behind us and falls into the river.
I glance over my shoulder in surprise. “You’re not going to look at it? You’re not even going to bug me about it?”
He smirks at me, relaxing back in his seat, looking too damn sexy for a man with blood all over his face. “The memory of your soft tits in my mouth is going to be better than any photo. Nice driving, Bambi.”
I find myself relaxing, too, enjoying the breeze in my hair and the thrum of the powerful engine. “Your car made it easy.”
“Modded her myself.” He lovingly pats the dash. “But you still drove like a hot bitch.”
My mouth twitches as a warm glow spreads through me. The road opens up before us, and it feels like freedom. It causes a physical ache in my chest to head for home.
When we walk through the front door, Mom looks with distaste upon Laz’s bloody face and my wild hair and flushed cheeks.
“We sorted out the prick who took that photo of Mia. You’re welcome,” Laz tells her.
Mom gives him an overly sweet smile. “Thank you for defending my daughter’s honor, husband darling.”
The smile drops from her face, and she shakes her head like she’s disgusted with both of us.
He points a finger in her face and looms over her. “Don’t lay a hand on your daughter ever again.”
Mom gazes up at him with a bored expression. “One afternoon of beating up some teenagers and you think you’re the man of the house? Go and get cleaned up. You’re a disgrace.” She turns back to her phone, muttering, “Both of you.”
Blood is still dripping from Laz’s nose. I grab an ice pack from the freezer and push at his shoulder. The last thing we need is another explosive fight in this house. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”
In the bathroom, he perches on the edge of the tub while I wipe the blood from his face with a damp washcloth.
“In all my fighting days, I was never tended to by such a pretty girl.”
I shrug, gently dabbing around his nose like it doesn’t matter to me one drop that Laz just called me pretty. “This doesn’t look broken, but I think you’re going to be sore.”
He smiles up at me, his eyes sparkling. “It was worth it.”
With a jolt, I realize I’m standing between his spread knees. He has his hands braced on the edge of the tub like he’s inviting me to get closer.
I should move away.
I don’t move away.
Instead, I reach behind me for the ice pack and press it gently over his nose. He hisses in pain, and reaches up to take it from me, holding it in place.
“That boy might still have that photo of you,” Laz tells me. “He could have sent it to a friend or backed it up.”
“Maybe,” I murmur. I don’t know if I care much anymore. That photo was all about power, and Laz and I just went and took a good chunk of it away from Kaleb. “Let them enjoy my tiny tits if they’re so obsessed with me.”
A smile spreads over Laz’s face. “You’re a fucking badass.”
“Who, me?” I step to the side to grab a clean washcloth and wet it. When I step back, his knee is between my thighs, and I squeeze him, pretending to be intent on wiping the last of the blood from his jaw and throat.
Laz groans and his hand with the ice pack drops away from his nose. His face is on the same level as my torso, and he gazes at my bare waist and hips like he’s wondering what I taste like.
