Page 53 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“You act like she's property. Are you a realtor looking for an investment?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, but you seem more thaninvestedin winning her over.”

“And why not? We worked well together! We did better than your relationship ever did. She told me thatherself.”

“Take that back.”

He smiled smugly. “Nope, it's already been said.”

“I can't believe you would toss me to the wolves like this. What did I ever do to you?”

“You did plenty just now. I was more than willing to let bygones be bygones, but you can't get over it. Why should I forgive you if you're not even willing to let it go?”

“What I do is my business.”

“Then, leave me out of your business.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, dude. Save it for the begging party you're about to have with Clara.”

He squared up. “What did you say?”

“Do I need to repeat it with the subtitles on?”

“Sure, why not? It would help me read you better.”

“I said, save it for the begging party. You'll need to do a lot of groveling for Clara to even consider looking in your direction again.”

“You just made a monumental mistake, dude.”

Gabe shoved me, sending beer splattering over my shirt. He stepped back for a moment with a look of rage over his face, staring me down. My shocked expression seemed to knock him out of the anger he was locked in. Almost instantly, his features fell.

“Dude, I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't mean to do that. I got mad.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I'm serious. I just got frustrated.”

“Like you frustrated me? At least I didn't shove you.”

I wiped some of the foamy beer from my shirt and set my glass of whiskey down. It was ruined. The whole night was burned. I grabbed a napkin from the table, dabbed my face, and headed for the door.

Ryan ran up after me. “Hey, come on. Stick around. The party is going to lighten up in no time.”

“Congrats, pal. I'm glad you're marrying my sister. She's a real keeper.”

“Thanks, buddy. Why not stay? I'm sure you and Gabe can work it out over a game of beer pong.”

I shook my head. “I'm not in a partying mood, Ryan. I just want to go home.”

“Alright, tell Jen I said hey.”

“Sure.”

And with that, I left.

I pushed through the double doors and wandered out to the parking lot where my rental was parked. I tore off my shirt, shaking out the rest of the beer. If I got pulled over, I would surely be given a field sobriety test. I didn't want that to happen. I hadn't even had more than a few gulps of that whiskey. I tossed the dirty shirt in the back and reached in the front for a new one.

I sniffed the shirt. “I still smell like beer—great.”

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