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“Braga!” Speak of the devil.
I turn to see Xavier walking toward us, with no smile on his face, even as he exclaims the last name of the man next to me.
Alexandre replies, “Xavier!” Stepping off his chair, he greets Xavier with a firm handshake.
“I see you’ve met Violetta,” he tells him, but I sense a hint of bitterness in his tone.
“Yes,” Alexandre replies.
“How do you two know each other?” I question as if fifteen minutes ago I met one of Xavier’s friends naturally.
“He’s the owner of the building.” Xavier lets out.
“A businessman?” I tell Alexandre with a mischievous grin.
He smiles in my direction. “I didn’t want to come on too strong.”
“Yea. Yea. Violetta’s sisters are waiting for her on the dance floor. She’ll most likely run into you later so you can have a better chat!” Xavier tells him. He’s smiling with gritted teeth before Alexandre replies with a nod, taking a seat back in his previous place.
Xavier drags me by the wrist somewhere where the sound disappears from my ears.
“What were you doing talking to him?” Xavier asks me with a tone I’ve only ever heard from him once and that was when he was arguing with his mom.
Is he mad?
“Actually, he’s the one who started talking to me,” I correct him.
“That doesn’t matter.” He runs a hand through his hair, making a single hair drop in front of his forehead.
I want to wrap my finger around the curl; it looks too good on him.
“Well, what does Alexandre and I talking have anything to do with you? You haven’t talked to me in a week,” I tell him sternly, finding the opportunity to finally get my explanation.
“I have my reasons.” He lets out before stopping and taking a deep breath. His hand is in a fist. He’s definitely angry, but why? “Us Brazilians are sexual by nature and when a man comes up to you, wiping your hair from your eyes, it means he wants to fuck you.” His face is full of rage.
I flinch a little at his words. “Why do you care? Maybe I wanted him to,” I reply back. If he wants to play this game, I’ll play it right back.
“What did you just say?” he asks. At this point his eyes could turn red and fumes come out of his nose and I wouldn’t question it one bit.
“I said what if I wanted him to fuck me.” I raise my eyebrows in his direction.
“You don’t curse for any other man but me.” Xavier stalks closer to me.
He takes a step while I move backward. We do this for about four or five paces before my back hits the wall. He takes another step so our noses are touching. He closes his eyes at the contact, trying to restrain himself.
“Are you jealous?” I ask in almost a whisper.
“I’m not jealous, Blondie,” he tells me, but his tone sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
“I don’t believe you,” I let out, standing my ground. His closeness to me makes my body respond to him as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. My body is flush against him instantly. I let out a gasp at the contact.
“Well, then don’t believe me. I don’t like your name on his lips or his hands in your hair. The fact that you’re wearing that goddamn dress, making every man turn his head and look at you, drives me crazy. I don’t want him near you. If I see him in your vicinity again for the rest of the night…” His face moves closer to mine and our lips make contact, lightly brushing each other. It’s not a kiss in the slightest, but I would love for his lips to meet mine fully. “I’ll kill him.” He finishes, staring me dead in the eye.
The world stops and that’s when I know he’s going to kiss me. His gaze disarms mine and the next thing I know.
His phone rings.
“Fuck!” he bellows before pulling the phone out of his back pocket. He keeps me close to him as he checks the caller ID. He stills.
