Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I rip the glitter dildo from his hand as I stride away, back to my office, and behind me, I hear Anthony say, “Sorry, Chance. I thought . . . it was just a joke.”
A joke?
I want to roar at him. I want to punch him. I want to annihilate him. All things I teach my guys to reason their way through, but I think for the first time, I’m realizing how truly hard that is.
I slam the door to my office, the sharp sound reverberating through the space and pace back and forth across the area in front of my desk where I threw the toy. I swear it’s staring at me, one-eyed mocking everything I thought I’d accomplished at the club. I’ve made a handful of laps when there’s a knock on the door as it opens. Evan pokes his head in.
“Dude, what the fuck? You okay?”
I jerk my head, and he comes in, closing the door behind him. Still pacing, I let loose. “Can you believe that shit? Anthony said Samantha almost kneed him. That means he was using his body, his size against her, to intimidate her. One step away from assaulting her. And he . . . no, they thought it was funny. What the hell is that?” I throw an arm, pointing back at where I left Anthony.
Evan’s quiet for a long minute, maybe two, just staring at me without an answer, and I think he’s processing what Anthony did. Finally, he says, “How long?”
Confused, I echo, “How long what?”
“Don’t be a dumbass. I know you better than you know yourself, Chance. How long’ve you been seeing bag o’dicks girl?” he asks wryly.
“Don’t call her that! Samantha. Her name’s Samantha,” I correct. And then with a sigh, I admit, “Since that night. Turns out she’s best friends with Carter’s wife. She’s a psychology grad student and sells the sex toys.”
“It’s serious?”
I lick my lips, knowing he’s not gonna like this. “No. Casual.”
Evan laughs mirthlessly, looking at the ceiling for celestial assistance. “You’ve built your reputation on being against fuckboy culture, but you’re fucking a girl who threw dicks at your feet? Did I get that right?”
“Don’t be crude,” I growl, but it’s a hollow chastisement. “We went in with clear communication. We’re both too busy for a relationship, but if we can meet some of each other’s needs, why not?”
“Why not? Are you serious?” he asks, turning his glare to me. When I don’t wither beneath the weight of his gaze, he shakes his head resolutely. “She’s already got you hooked and you don’t even know it. Reagan pulled the same shit on me.”
Reagan is his fiancée. She’s a data analyst for a mutual fund company, spending her days staring at charts and graphs and her nights staring at Evan. And while he’s saying Reagan hooked him, the truth is, he fell for her hard and fast. Not because she made him but because she’s that amazing. Evan chased her, wooing her at every turn, and had to win her over.
“It’s not like that with me and Samantha,” I argue.
He chuckles, holding his palms up. “If you say so. But if Anthony pulled that stunt with someone else, you’d be pissed as hell, but you’d talk him through it analytically so he’d see why it’s wrong and brainstorm how to make the proper amends. Instead, you went scorched Earth on him a la Daddy Harrington.”
It’s a low blow. Saying I’m acting like my father when he knows I don’t have the best relationship with him, mostly because I ventured out on my own with Evan to start the Gentlemen’s Club instead of joining the family business like Carter and Cameron.
“I need to see if she’s okay,” I admit. “I’m gonna cut out early.”
I’m already three quick steps to the door when he says, “Good.”
Confused, I glance over my shoulder, and he stares at me in exasperation. “Good because that means it’s not casual. You just haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Shut up, asshole.” I laugh. Right before I leave, I remember, “Hey, watch Lucas for me. He had a tough mentoring session, and I was pretty rough on him. But he’s gotta pull his head out of his ass before he goes blind from the long-term darkness.”
Evan does a stupid two-finger salute. “Got it. Go check on your Sex Toy Barbie.” He’s grinning, and later, I’ll tell him to never call Samantha that again. But right now, I want to go.
As I head through the game area and the lobby, silence drops down over the guys when they see me. I know they’re wondering about my reaction earlier, but I stand by it.
One hundred percent.
CHAPTER 13
CHANCE
Oblivion Coffee is not a place I would ever go on my own. It’s dark, gothic, with skulls here and moon phase art there, and metalcore music playing. Thankfully, the music’s not too loud and I can at least order a drink.