Page 163 of Lovers' Dance

She froze, hand paused mid-air, with a sizeable piece of brownie between her well-manicured fingers. She looked uncertain, as did Matt and Nathan. The plate of chocolate brownies sat innocently in the middle of the table and smelling of a natural high heaven.

Shit.How to explain?

“It’s—um—those brownies are—”

Bret was chuckling as he opened my fridge. I shot him a glare and scuffed my sock-covered toes over the floor. “They’re not fit for consumption.”

“Why not, poppet?” Matt asked in confusion.

Bret shut my fridge, not finding whatever he was looking for, and sauntered over to the table where he plucked up a brownie and popped it into his mouth with an obvious wink in my direction. Oh, man.

Bella still had the brownie between her fingers and, when she’d observed Bret scoffing one down, it resumed its journey to her lips. Oh no.

“They’re pot brownies,” I cried in dismay, then smacked a hand over my mouth in shame as Matt gave me a thunderous look and Nathan snatched the goodie out of Bella’s grip.

Bret popped one more in his mouth and wandered back over to the fridge as I chewed my lower lip under Matt’s observation.

“Damned good ones, too,” Bret said, opening the fridge again.

I turned away from Matt’s stare. Was that disgust on his face? Disappointment? Embarrassment?

Then,thwack. I yelped, jumping out my skin as the leather belt wielded by Bret connected nicely.

“Jesus Christ, Bret!” I spun around, ass pressed against the lower cupboards. The sneaky bastard had hidden the belt in the fridge?

“Twenty-two,” he shouted towards the kitchen door, and a cheer went up in the living room.

In the ten seconds it had taken for that to transpire, Matt had closed the small distance between him and Bret. Before I could blink, he had Bret around the neck and looked like he was about to throttle him.

“Are you out of your bloody mind?” he dragged out in a menacing tone. “Hit her again and I’ll kill you.”

“Matt,” I shouted, grabbing his arm and trying to yank him away from my friend, who was staring at him from goggled eyes, while his face started turning pink from lack of air. “It’s a game. It’s just a game. Matt. Let him go.”

I don’t think Matt heard me. I had never seen him look so angry. Forget the thousands of pounds suit he wore and his slicked-back hair, Matt looked like he was about to throw down. And poor Bret was the person marked for an ass whopping.

“Matt.” I slipped my hand in his hair and tugged. Hard. That finally got his attention. “Let him the fuck go.”

Matt inhaled deeply, grey eyes flashing with barely contained rage, danger about ready to spill out and unleash a fury that I’d never witnessed before. Then I remembered the night we’d met. Shit. I shoved him away and slipped between them, back pressed against Bret’s heaving chest as I went into protective mode. Well, drunk protective mode.

“Are you insane? You can’t jack my friend up like that. Why are you here? I said Friday, Matt. Friday, not Monday.”

Sol walked into the kitchen with Dante right behind her. “Que paso?”

“El loco novio de MSG, trato de matarme,” Bret explained.

Matt’s eyebrows lowered. “I did not try to kill you. I threatened to kill you if you ever hit Madison again.”

My mouth fell open. “You speak Spanish, too?”

Matt shot me an unhappy scowl. “Yes.”

“I don’t like him, MSG,” Bret groused as he encircled my bare stomach with his arms.

Matt’s expression darkened, gaze lowering to Bret’s arms around me. When he raised his eyes to look at Bret, I heard my friend gulp.

“I’m not fond of you either, mate,” Matt said coldly. He held a hand out towards me. “Come here. Now.”

I was drunk. High. And pissed off Matt was here. I hadn’t asked him to come, had I? I vaguely remembered speaking to him earlier…briefly.

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