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She stared at me, waiting for me to say something. Or to close the door so she could leave. Just waiting for my lead.
And I remembered her, that night…
How she’d been, like sweet, melted caramel, gooey and willing in my hands.
“I never said we were,” I uttered darkly. Then I shut the door and let the elevator sweep her out of my face.
I paced across my apartment, fucking aggravated.
What was I even doing?
Was I training or not?
I didn’t like not knowing who my opponent was or if I even had one.
The truth was, Moe Brampton backed out of the fight because he—or his team—thought I was beneath him. Lesser than. Unworthy.
Just like she did.
Jolie didn’t call me after she discovered who I was because she was embarrassed that she’d lowered herself by getting in bed with me. And now someone had gotten in Brampton’s ear, talked him out of fighting me, so he wouldn’t lower himself.
Pissed off, I finally answered the text from Buddy Black.
Me:Moe Brampton is a fucking pussy. Find me someone who will fight me.
ChapterSix
Jolie
“Are you getting drunk?” my date for the evening inquired. Alyssa appeared both amused and concerned for my health as I sucked on a vodka paralyzer, which I’d been enjoying with a champagne chaser. “Like, on purpose?”
“Nope. Totally not.”
Said the drunk girl.
My best friend smiled wryly at me. She took a ladylike sip of her champagne and returned her attention to my aunt Mireille, who was standing several seats down from us at Mom’s mile-long dining room table, delivering a toast. We’d already finished up dinner and now it was all toasts and cocktails.
“I’d like to thank my sister, Margot,” she said, “and her soon-to-be-husband, Jacob, for allowing us to host this wedding shower in their home. We wanted it to be perfect for you,” she said to Mom, who was seated across from me. “Elegant yet personal, with your closest friends and family gathered to celebrate your upcoming wedding. It has been such a long time coming.”
There was some gentle laughter of agreement, and Mireille raised her glass. “To Margot and Jacob.”
Everyone seated along the table did the same. “To Margot and Jacob,” we chorused. Then we drank; I took a hearty swig of my champagne.
Across from me, Jacob leaned in and kissed my mom.
I could hardly believe this was happening.
When Shane saidGuess I’ll see you at the wedding shower this weekend, I seriously didn’t know what the fuck he was playing at. I figured he was just being an ass, trying to mess with me somehow. But as it turned out, everyone in my family, including my mother, had somehow failed to mention to me that the wedding shower her sisters were throwing for her was ahis and hers.
Meaning Jacob andhisclose friends and family were invited, too.
Including Shane.
Which meantanotherbig event I’d have to see him at.
It was hard enough to force myself over to his apartment to request a truce in hopes of ensuring his cooperation and civility at the wedding when I still thought that was the singular event I’d have to endure him at.
And now here I was.Three timesin one week I had to deal with this guy?
