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He snorts. “How do they feel about you banging their little sister?”
I wish I was banging her.
My dick’s been pissed at me for days because we haven’t gotten there yet.
“Like I said, she doesn’t have a relationship with them.”
His eyes come to mine, hold. “Probably for the best.”
“Exactly. You’ve played against them. You know precisely how bad they can be.”
He taps the scar crisscrossing his eyebrow, and I’d forgotten that was from a deliberate Conrad stick to the face. “I sure as fuck do. Still,” he mutters, “there’s going to be hell to pay when the season comes around.”
If Vi stays where I want her to stay, that’ll be the damn truth.
“So that’s why she can handle us,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“All the shit we pull isn’t anything she hasn’t seen before.”
Growing up and every day at her job.
“Yup.”
“And likely where she learned how to throw that killer right hook.”
My lips twitch.
“So there’s at least one good thing the Conrads gave her.”
That’s true enough so I just repeat, “Yeah.”
Silence falls between us and his eyes again drift to Jenny, who’s smiling, but it seems forced—as though she’s nearing her breaking point with everything and needs to get the fuck out of there.
Oakes doesn’t seem to notice.
He’s having the time of his life.
Becks sighs, glares down at his beer bottle for a moment.
“Gonna get another one,” he mutters.
Then takes off for the bar.
The song shifts, transforming into something slower, something more sensual.
Something there’s no chance in hell my brother is sharing with my fucking woman.
I push off the pillar I was occupying, see Lex standing in the shadows like he’s done most of the night, scowling into his cocktail, and roll my eyes.
The kid needs to get over himself already.
Then, not bothering to try to divert his brooding (mostly because I’ve got better shit to do), I wind my way through the dance floor, get close, and growl at Noble. “Get the fuck out of here.”
He grins, winks at me, and disappears in the direction of the open bar.
(That I’m paying for.)