Page 46 of Manhattan Tormentor

“Don’t mind us, we’re only chopped liver,” my sister interrupts.

“Raene, I could never ignore you, beautiful.” he leans down and busses a kiss to her cheek, then slaps Thatcher’s outstretched hand. Marc used to be part of our friend group until he went out of state to college.

I liked him, and he liked me, but we decided long distance would never work.

“Why don’t you join us?” Raene pipes in.

“Wish I could,” he looks regretful. “I’m picking takeout up for the fam.” Then he adds, “are you seeing anyone?”

My eyes automatically flick over Marc’s shoulder and I see him staring bullets at me.

What the hell does he have to be angry at?

“Nah, don’t have time to date right now.” I tell him.

“We should get together while I’m in town. I’d like to catch up.”

“Sure, man, call me, you can tell me all about the college action you’re getting.”

He smirks in return. There’s no residual feelings there, we were good not so long ago and we didn’t end on a bad note.

We hug again before he goes to collect his order.

“Shit, the dads are calling me.” Thatcher slides out of his seat to take the call outside and I go to take a piss while Bunny decides if she’s had enough to eat.

The waiter who served us smiles at me as I pass by his station. My gaydar buzzes like crazy and I’m not even a step by him when he says, “Hey?” I turn my head. “Yeah? We’re ready to pay in a minute.”

“Oh, sure, but it’s not that. I wanted to give you my number.”

See? My gaydar never lets me down.

Before I can say anything, another customer calls him over and he winks at me before ambling away.

Finished washing up in the bathroom, I’m unaware of anything until I’m bodily spun around, fast enough to rattle my fucking brain. My back meets the tiled wall with a hard slam.

Finn pushes his face into mine, snarling like a wolf with his pupils blown out. He smells of garlic, anger and lust. He smells good, even though I think he’s broken my spine.

“What the fuck!” I hiss, trying to push him away. He uses his body to hold me in place. My breathing goes from zero to sixty. All I have to do is drag my tongue over his bottom lip and he’d be into it.

When he speaks, his voice feels thick against the side of my face where he’s pushed his mouth. It’s rusty sounding and makes a coil of heat tighten inside me.

He grabs my shirt and uses it to slam me into the wall again, this time he presses his forehead to mine and hisses.

“Who the fuck was the punk with his hands all over you?”

C H A P T E R 12

Sage

I’m still feeling the shake of my bones through my spine when I shove the jerk off me. He stumbles back but stays in my personal space, spitting fire like a dragon. As though he has any rights to answers.

“You mean the one in front of me? Don’t put your hands on me again, butthead, or I’ll retaliate.”

“Really?” He laughs, dark as a devil. “I’d pay good money to see that. Who was he, Sage?”

“None of your business, now get out of the way.”

I’m ignored. He shoves further into my space, his hands on the wall blocking me in. I’ve seen a lot of versions of Finn Maverick. Each version is fake as fuck. I think, as he chuffs air in and out of his clenched teeth and his eyes on fire, I’m looking at his most authentic self.

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