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NADIA
“How dare you.” I give him a shove, aware of the eyes on us, one pair in particular.
Riff’s.
For a moment, he’s confused, but a flick of the area with a gaze, and he raises a brow. “You’re not the fuckin’ boss of me. I don’t remember calling you. How did you find me anyway? Following me?”
“Someone told me.”
He throws his arms up and turns. “Your ex. Let him use you as a punching bag, Nadie.”
Diego stalks off, and I follow, my heart beating fast. “You get back here. We need to talk!”
I have to almost run to keep up with his powerful strides, which makes every pulse hammer hard. Shit, I thought he got it, understood.
Fucking stupid slut. The words ring in my ears like that’s what I am. Stupid.
Amazing how all it takes is a face of violent anger spat right at you, and a girl crumbles a little, because I have to be stupid not to have seen what Diego did, that Riff’s a piece of no-good garbage.
“Hurry up, Longstocking, and work that ass in chasing me,” Diego says, his voice just reaching me. “C’mon abuse me a little more. We got an audience.”
The relief that floods my veins is so overwhelming I almost laugh. “I can’t believe you sweet-talked me when you’re nothing but a low-life.”
He stops, turns, stalks up and slides his hand about my arm. “I think we need to talk.”
“Well. I’m not going home with you, so—”
“You bailed me out, Nadie, sure you are.”
“We talk first. The bar ahead. I prefer people around.”
There’s amusement, dark and low-key, in his gaze. “Okay. But for the fuckin’ record, I am mad at you for not staying home. But now I remember you’re a cheap, sweet lay. Maybe I’ll buy you two drinks and take that ass.”
My heart spins as heat pools down in my pelvis, and my clit throbs. “Well, shit, Diego. I think we both know it doesn’t even take a drink.”
“That make me a cheap lay too?”
“The cheapest.”
He nods, not letting go as he steers us to the bar. “Let’s see just how man I’m gonna be and you can thank your lucky stars I’m not into whipping you.”
“We can work on that.”
I pull free because I have to, need to. The bantering flirt of words is a cover for a thread of desperation that runs in me, and I think, in him.
Diego’s leaving soon.
I don’t know if either of us is ready. I know I’m not.
Taking a breath and ignoring the closed sign, I step into the bar, Diego right behind me.
Ther are a handful of people in there, no one comfortable, not even the bartender—but her gaze hits mine and she nods. She went to school with my brother, so I know her well enough to put this together.
Diego’s arm slips about me as he pulls me up against him. “For real, Nadie. Jokes and fucking bullshit flirting aside tell me why I shouldn’t be absolutely furious at you right now.”
I twist around. “Diego, these—”
“Fuckin’ know who these people are, Nadie. You put yourself in danger. Not good. Not at all.”
