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Rebecca is smiling so much it actually lightens up her face, making her look like less of a bitch.
My eyes drop, watching her run her palm slowly down his forearm until she reaches the hand Drago has resting on the table. She slides her fingers over the top of Drago’s hand, wrapping hers around his.
The air I gasp is involuntary. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d tried.
“Is something wrong, Bri?” Justin asks.
If the concern in his voice matches his expression, I have no idea. I still can’t stop staring at Drago’s table. As if feeling someone watching him, D’s eyes snap to mine.
“Jesus Christ,” Justin draws out. “At least act like you don’t have feelings for him. Seriously, Andrews.”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, trying to gain back my composure. It doesn’t work; only frustrates me.
I lift my eyelids, taking in Justin’s disapproving green gaze. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“You do that.” He nods as he brings his napkin to his mouth, wiping.
Once I’m in behind the ladies’ room door and out of Drago’s sight, I sag and breathe.
Why is he here? And withherof all people, letting her touch him. My skin heats with anger while my chest hurts. If I hadn’t gotten out of there, I’m not sure if I could have stayed rooted to my seat. I want to go over there and rip her hand off him. She shouldn’t get to touch him, not like that, not so intimately.
Pushing off the door, I walk a few steps until I reach the sink where I turn on the faucet and begin splashing cold water on my face to cool off.
It’s a rather fancy bathroom, so there are cloth hand towels folded and placed to the side of the sink instead of the standard paper towel dispenser. Grabbing one, I dab it onto my skin, drying up the water.
After staring at myself in the mirror for as long as I can possibly get away with staying in here, I take a deep breath of air and then toss the used towel into the basket underneath the sink and then leave, heading back out to where I left Justin.
Only I don’t make it more than a foot out the door before I smack into a hard chest.
Snapping my head back, I look up, seeing Drago staring down at me.
“What are you doing here?”
“You took off to the bathroom so fast I was about to come in to make sure you were okay.”
“No,” I bite out. “Why are you here withher?”
“Why do you care? You said yourself you aren’t any of my business, so why amIyours?”
“Don’t twist my words. I’m not the one that broke up with you.” My words exit bitterly.
Stepping around him, I try to seek distance so that I don’t lash out—or break down. The latter being more likely at this point. I thought I had my emotions in check. I was doing really well. I haven’t cried since I released everything on my sister-in-law this past weekend. I had gotten past it all. Or I thought I had. When I realized he was sitting across the room from me, everything came back tenfold, hitting all my senses at once.
Drago snags me around the waist, stopping my escape, then he turns me back around to face him. He waits until I’m looking up at him before he says anything, and it takes me a moment to drag my eyes up his chest. The crisp white dress shirt he’s wearing contrasts well with his bronze skin, and I like that he doesn’t wear a tie. He looks dressed up and handsome, yet more appealing and maybe a little dangerous.
I still haven’t figured out why I like that about him so much. Maybe it’s because deep down, I know he’s a good man. He’s not a criminal like his father or like others perceive him to be because of the last name he was given at birth.
Finally, I raise my eyes, meeting his. I have to swallow the lump in my throat. I want nothing more than to reach up and pull him down to me. I want his lips on mine and his arms around me, securing my body to his. I miss the feel of him. I miss him so much and it hurts more and more with each day, worsening versus getting better.
“I’m not with her,” he tells me, and I do want to believe him, but I saw what I saw. She was touching him and he wasn’t making her stop.
“You sure about that?”
“Yes,” he breathes out. His dark gaze drops down, eyeing my lips.
It only causes more questions to wrack my brain. Does he want to kiss me? Does he still want me? If so, why did he force me away?
Grabbing my hips gently, he guides my body closer to his. With his right hand, he roams up my waist until he reaches my throat where his scorching hot palm lingers. Parting my mouth, I take in air and then exhale on a shaky breath.
