Page 63 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
Oh, God. How long had it been since he’d been with her? Two weeks? Two days? Oh dear God I’m going to puke.
But Nico, being Nico, made it all better with only a few well-chosen words.
With one side of his mouth quirked, in the most dismissive tone I’d ever heard, he said, “Nah, darlin’, you were never my lady. Or probably anyone else’s lady. More like the village bicycle. Haven’t taken a ride on that rusty, second-hand bike in what, six months?”
The look on her face was so priceless, I wished I had a camera.
“You fucking asshole!” she shrieked, red in the face.
Nico shrugged, then winked at me. “Guilty as charged.”
It all happened so fast. The surgically enhanced Village Bicycle took a snarling step forward, her right arm cocked back, her intent to slap Nico across the face as clear as daylight.
So, naturally, because I’m shit for making quick decisions, I slapped her first.
The crack! of my open palm hitting her cheek was immediately followed by her scream of disbelief. Her head rocked back. Staggering sideways in her heels, she spun around and stared at me wide-eyed, cradling her jaw.
Holding her gaze, I quietly said, “Back off, bitch, unless you want another.”
Across the room, the four other members of Bad Habit roared with laughter.
She lunged at me. Nico yanked me out of the way just in time, and she went flying by in a cloud of cheap perfume, screaming bloody murder. Her girlfriends were up on their stilettos before you could say “boo,” lunging at me, too. It was six against one, and if the boys hadn’t intervened, I would’ve been torn to shreds in a fury of red acrylic claws.
“Brody, get the girls outta here!” Nico shouted. He held me in a protective bear hug against his chest while the guys corralled the girls to the opposite side of the room.
“C’mon, hooker, you heard the man, party’s over.” Brody held the brunette firmly by the arm and began to pull her away.
“Don’t call me a fucking hooker!” she hollered, struggling to get free.
Brody laughed. “You’re right. That’s an insult to hookers.”
He ignored her squawk of anger and dragged her from the room, while A.J., Chris, and Ethan managed to get control of her friends. They were escorted out in a spewing hail of profanities, and promises to gut me like a fish the next time they saw me.
Dumbfounded, I stared after them. “Jesus Christ. Where do you find women like that? The ninety-nine-cent section of hell?”
Nico turned me around and held me against his chest. He looked as if he was holding back a smile. “Yeah, it didn’t look like you got on too well with them, huh, baby? In fact, I think it’s fair to say you even got . . . aggressive.”
Shit. He had me. He so totally had me there.
“And I’m wonderin’ why that might be? Feelin’ a little . . . possessive maybe?”
“No!” Hello, blatant lie, my new best friend. “I slapped that cow in self-defense! She was about to hit you!”
“That’s not self-defense, Kat. That’s you protectin’ me. Kinda like I was protectin’ you against the paparazzi, and from my boys seein’ you in all your bare-ass glory.”
And there it was. The truth with a capital T. Which only meant one thing.
I was a complete hypocrite.
I rested my forehead against his chest, and sighed. “You know, if you’re going to be right all the time, it’s really going to get old.”
He laughed. Really laughed, his chest shaking with it.
“And smug is really going to get old, too!”
“Yeah, but you bein’ mad ’cause I called you out on some shit you were just pissed at me about is never gonna get old.”
“Shut up.” It was a halfhearted “shut up,” because, once again, he was right. I would find the same thing extremely hilarious if the situation were reversed.
