Did I mention how much I hate to lose at anything? The competitive streak in me is fully engaged right now and if Reese thinks he’s got me beat on this, he’s dead wrong. In a battle of who loves who more, I’m taking the prize on this one.
I turn my body completely, straddling his lap and dropping my hands to his shoulders. “Now you listen to me, Carroll. I’m the one who should be feeling like shit here. Me. Not you. I’m the one who’s constantly challenging you with outfits and my incessant need to push your buttons. And I’ll always be like that. You’re marrying someone who will most likely drive you crazy for the rest of your life. Why?”
Why? Shit. Why the hell did I ask that? Good job, Dylan. Let’s make the man you love question the biggest decision of his life.
He opens his mouth to speak but I quickly slap my hand over it. “Ignore that. We’re getting off topic.” I feel his laugh against my hand before dropping it to my lap, allowing the slightest smile to touch my lips. “I should’ve told you I saw Bryce at the club last night. I didn’t because I was afraid of what you would do to him. And I also didn’t want anything to mess up that account.”
“What happened?” The sorrowed look he had moments ago has completely vanished, replaced with a look I’d never want to go up against. He seems to grow in size as he waits for me to recount my evening; that, or I’m suddenly cowering down. Could be a bit of both. “Dylan, do I need to call Brooke and ask her to tell me?”
I narrow my eyes at him and pout. “No. You don’t.” I exhale loudly, grabbing his hands and moving them to my breasts.
He frowns, looking at his hands. “What are you doing?”
“I’m using what I have to my advantage. You need to stay calm, and keeping your hands on my body is like a mild sedative for you.”
“Not for my cock,” he grunts. “And don’t try to distract me. I want to know right now what happened last night. Every fucking detail.”
I slide my hands to his wrists, lightly holding him. He doesn’t make an attempt to move, so I decide to continue. “None of us knew Bryce was at that club until we went to the bar. The bartender gave me a drink and told me Bryce had bought it for me, which really pissed me the hell off. I mean, really. The nerve of that asshole. Like I would ever accept a drink from him.”
“Dylan… focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” I clear my throat and think back to last night. “I went over to him with it and he opened his big stupid mouth, saying it’s been too long since he’s seen me and my dress belonged on his floor.” Reese clenches his teeth and tries to drop his hands but I keep them on me. “I threw my drink in his face and he acted like he liked it, which pissed me off even more. Then he said something about me having a temper and asked if I fuck you angry. Joey tried to step in but I told him to drop it. Juls cussed him out. Brooke did, too. We left right after that.”
Reese closes his eyes, keeping his hands on my breasts. I see his nostrils flare, and the veins in his neck become taut like tight coils. He takes five deep, calming breaths and I move my hands to his chest, flattening them out. His heart hammers against my palm as he slides his hands down and grips my hips tightly. “You should’ve slapped the shit out of him for saying that to you.”
I lift my gaze off his chest and see his eyes beaming at me. “Your eyes are so green right now.” I hold his face, studying the brightness. I’ve never seen anything like the color of Reese’s eyes. Close to emerald, but not quite. “And you’re right, I should’ve. But I couldn’t because he’s a little bitch who would either like it or call the cops on me. Bryce isn’t a man, and he’d never take a slap like one.”
“He won’t be taking a slap from me.”
And this is what I was worried about. “Reese, you can’t. What about the account? And if you hit him, he could have you arrested.”
He grabs my wrists, pulling my hands off his face. “I’m going to hurt him, Dylan. It’s going to happen.” He pauses, blinking heavily. “This shit better work,” he all but whispers, dropping his gaze away from mine.
“Please,” I beg through a strained voice, ignoring his last comment and only focusing on his threat. “Please, don’t do anything. Beating the shit out of him isn’t worth losing your job or going to jail over.” My lip begins to tremble and the tears come again. “Please, Reese. I can’t have anything happen to you.” We can’t have anything happen to you. I drop my head to his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around me as I place a protective hand over my belly. Something would happen. This gut feeling I have isn’t going away.
“Shhh. I don’t want you to worry about this, okay? Dylan, I’m a smart guy. You need to trust me. I’m not going to do anything that’s going to get me put in jail. Hey, look at me.”