Page 7 of Sweet Addiction
“And Boots,” she cuts me off before I have another chance to torture her with a word I know she despises. We might not exactly be friends, but thanks to our families, we’ve been around each other enough for me to pick up on that little nugget.
“Yeah.” I smirk, enjoying this more than I should. “Puss and Boots was just hit by a car.”
Her eyes glow as I bite back a smile. “Puss and Boots... was hit—” she repeats slowly, and I think she’s starting to pick up what I’m putting down—“by a car?”
“Yeah. They sent me to get you. You’ve got to come with me. I’ll take you to the vet.” I hold out my hand and wait as she looks between her date and me, silently deciding whether this can work or not. It’s clear the moment the decision is made, andfuck me, the fire in her eyes is something to behold as she slides her hand into mine.
I shouldn’t notice the way it fits there or how soft her skin is.
And I really shouldn’t like the way her head barely comes up to my shoulder, even with those boots on when she stands.But I do. More than I want to.
“I’m sorry, Kevin. I’ve got to go,” she tells finance bro saccharinely sweet.
“I can take you to the vet,” he offers as he pockets his phone for the first time since I came over here.
“No,” she quickly rushes to reassure him. “Thank you. Rome knows the way.”
“I’ll call you then,” he tells her, but she’s grabbing her bag and coat and turning away from him before the words leave his mouth.
“Let’s go, I need to see Puss and Boots before it’s too late,” she tells me dramatically, putting on a show for the guy as she squeezes my hand.
I don’t bother to acknowledge the douche before I tug her behind me through the crowded bar with a shit-eating grin.
This night just got a whole lot more interesting.
DILLAN
Controlling my mouth—that I can do.
Controlling my face—I gave up on that a long time ago.
—Dillan’s Secret Thoughts
“My pussy?”I question Rome as soon as we’re beyond the doors of West End, standing on the snow-lined street. “Seriously? That was the best you could come up with?”
An incredibly sexy smile stretches across his stubbled face.
A face that might as well have been chiseled by an Italian Renaissance sculptor, it’s so perfect.
“I just got you out of what I’m betting was a fucking awful date, princess. You really going to question my methods?” He tugs my hand, but I stand firm. “Come on. Let me get you to that...vet.”
“I can get an Uber,” I answer, frustratingly flustered, wondering exactly how this night managed to go this far off the rails... “It’s not a big?—”
“My bike is right there, Dillan.” He motions to the shiny cherry-red motorcycle in front of us. “You’re not getting in an Uber alone.”
His bike... Of course Rome Beneventi has a motorcycle. How did I not know that? And why does it make my stomach flip? “We’re in Kroydon Hills, Rome. The crime rate?—”
“Isn’t non-existent, so I’m taking you home. Now stop arguing and get on the bike.”
Bossy asshole.
“I’m in a dress,” I argue as we move closer to the pretty motorcycle. I’ve never been on one before, but I can’t even begin to act like I haven’t always wanted to try it. “And there’s snow on the ground. Is it even safe?”
Rome looks at me like I’m a pain in the ass, and I know the feeling. “You live ten minutes away from here, and it’s a fucking dusting, not the storm of the century.” He drops my hand and swings his thick thigh over the bike. “Come on, Ryan. Live a little.”
Black Doc Martens, dark blue jeans, and a dark-blue wool coat shouldn’t look this good on any man, but then you add the motorcycle between his thick thighs, and...well, damn, he looks fucking hot even before he holds his hand out for me with a wicked grin.
I drag my lower lip between my teeth as snow flurries float around us, wondering just how dumb of a move this is.
