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“Interesting choice wearing flip-flops with a suit,” I remark. I wonder if Maggie would’ve been as awestruck if she had seen his bare feet.

“Fuck you,” he mutters as he goes to the urinal that’s the furthest away from the one I’m using.

“You can dress up or text her for the rest of your life, but you’re never getting her back,” I warn him.

“We’ll see about that,” he replies. “You two have nothing in common. Nada. You’re way too boring and uptight for my Maggie.”

“She’s not yours,” I remind him. “And I don’t remember anyone asking your fucking opinion.”

“Yeah, well, I’m giving it to you anyway,” he says. “You won’t be able to make her happy. Not where it counts.” I remain facing forward staring at the wall while he keeps running his mouth. “My Maggie is a wild girl.” Wyatt laughs under his breath. “You have no idea what she’s really like.”

I try to ignore him. To slowly count to ten. I would walk away but I can’t exactly do that at the moment. As soon as I can, I’ll put some much needed distance between us.

Then Wyatt says, “She’ll come running back to me when she realizes that the pretty boy is too much of a prude to give her what she needs.”

I don’t usually have a temper, and I’m not one quick to violence. Hell, I’ve never hit anyone in my entire life. But he’s pushed me too far tonight, and I snap.

Maybe it was the kiss with Maggie earlier that has me out of my mind, because I do something I absolutely know I shouldn’t after he claims she’ll go running back to him.

I zip up my pants, then before I can stop myself, I turn and hit him.

He stumbles back a few steps from the urinals but doesn’t go down.

“What the hell, man?” Wyatt huffs as he reaches up to rub the left side of his face.

“Uh…” a young guy wearing the dark green resort polo mutters as he takes in the situation from the open door. I’m not sure how long he’s been there but long enough. He looks from me to Wyatt and then streaks out the door.

Dammit.

I go over to the sink and wash my hands, my busted knuckles, while keeping an eye on Wyatt in the mirror.

“I can’t believe you fucking hit me!” the asshole exclaims. “I thought lawyers were taught to not go around assaulting people.”

“How would you know since you dropped out of law school?” I ask him while inwardly wincing at the reminder.

If I get felony charges, I can kiss my law license that I worked so hard for goodbye.

And Maggie. She’s going to be furious with me for hitting her ex.

Probably.

Since she’s moved in with me, there are times when I realize I’m finally getting to know the real Maggie.

Wyatt unfortunately wasn’t wrong. I know she has a wild side. One she’s never really shared with me, but I saw glimpses of in college.

The thought that Wyatt may know Maggie better than I do pisses me off for some reason. Especially if he thinks he knows what she wants, what she needs better than me.

Just as I wave my hand under the paper towel dispenser, the bathroom door opens again and three men in suits come rushing in with the kid behind them.

Shit.

“Everything okay in here, gentlemen?” the oldest one asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Christopher said he saw you two fighting.”

“We weren’t fighting,” I say just as Wyatt jumps in and says, “I never laid a fucking finger on him,” while pointing at me and still clutching his jaw.