Page 120 of Moros

“Shorty, I wouldn’t make anyone jealous.” I told her emphatically. “Maybe you could ask Boss to be your date for the night.”

The anger that caused in her stunned me.

“I don’t walk into a room on some other man’s arms unless it’s when he’s leading me down the aisle to you. Got that?”

I’d exhaled. My heart racing with happiness.

It was that night, I held her down on my bed and stared into her dark eyes in the moonlight streaming into the room.

“I love you.” I told her. “I love you, so fucking much.”

Ryanne had immediately started crying.

The moment the tears began rolling down her cheeks, I’d panicked.

“They’re happy tears!” She hugged my neck. “I love you too!”

Ryanne taking my hand brought me back to the room. She’d snacked us a couple glasses of wine and while I accepted mine, I didn’t drink from it.

We spent the night focusing on each other. The mean girls were still staring, and I could almost feel them wanting to say something else to Ryanne.

Still, I ignored them, danced with my woman and snacked on the finger food around. It was well into the evening when the one Ryanne had called Brianne found me.

I supposed she waited until Ryanne excused herself to use the bathroom before she found her way up to me at the bar. It was hard to not know she was entirely too close to me as her perfume was beginning to give me a headache.

She rested her palm on my arm, and I frowned.

“Why are you really with her?” Brianne leaned in, her breast pressing to me.

“I love her.” I replied. “And you may want to go talk to your doctor—your fake breasts aren’t supposed to feel like that.”

She was outraged but I pulled my arm from her grip.

“You’re going to talk to me like that?” She demanded. “Look at me.”

“I’m looking.” I replied. “But I have question. Is any of you real?”

Someone wrapped their arm around me from behind and I looked back to see it was Ryanne. She didn’t meet my eyes but was glaring at Brianne who didn’t seem to be able to read the room.

“You do know he’s leaving with me tonight, right?” Brianne asked.

“If he leaves with you then he’s not the man I think he is.” Ryanne smiled. “Remember when I told you outside that I wasn’t the same girl from high school? Let’s test how good your plastic surgeon is.”

Before I could move, Ryanne caught Brianne by the hair, stepped around me only to push Brianne’s face down against the bar—hard.

“That is for all the years in high school you tortured me.” Ryanne told her.

Brianne screamed as her nose didn’t bleed but it was twisted in a strange, almost cartoonish way to the left.

I arched a brow.

“Well, shit.” I muttered.

Ryanne took my hand and we walked away with people pointing and laughing at Brianne.

Deep down, I didn’t feel like going home yet, and I knew she didn’t want to go home. She’d told me earlier that she didn’t get many chances to dress up and tonight—I glanced at her body in that dress and grew hard.

I helped her across the freshly cleared sidewalk when the valet returned with the truck and into the vehicle. And after we drove for a little bit I stop at a hotdog stand.