Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
As I walk closer, Marcus shifts to the left, directly blocking my path, and his stare narrows. “Absolutely not,” he says, letting out a slow breath through his nose like a raging bull.
I stop a few feet short. “Good evening to you too.”
Dean shakes his head. “You’ve got balls showing up here.”
“I’m aware.”
“That all you’ve got?” Marcus asks flatly. “No big apology? No flowers? No fucking skywriter leaving a message admitting you screwed over our boss?”
I glance between them, getting irritated at the hold up. “You two rehearse this?”
Dean ignores me. “Lyra doesn’t go out, and she sure as fuck doesn’t cut a shift early just to spend time with some random asshole she met at her bar, which means she was excited about this, and you fucking ghosted mid-date. She came back here looking like she was about to set the world on fire.”
I just stare at him, because honestly, what does he want me to do? Grovel on my knees? Ain’t no way. That’s not my style. Besides, I don’t owe these two shit. Lyra, yes. But these guys? Absolutely not.
Marcus shakes his head, letting out a sigh, seeming to be the more forgiving of the two. “You hurt her. I’ve never seen her like that, and we care about her, so you’ll have to understand that we don’t want to see that shit happen again.”
Okay. That one lands, and fuck, tell me why it’s sitting on my chest like a rusty blade.
“I know,” I tell them. “I’m more than aware that I fucked it up. Hurting her was never my intention. I have an . . . obscure job, and when duty calls, it fucking calls. It was bad timing. Give me a chance to make it up to her. If anything, she tells me to fuck off, and I’ll leave.”
Dean studies me like he’s deciding whether I’m worth the paperwork before exchanging a glance with Marcus. There’s a moment of silence before Dean’s face falls. “Oh, fuck no. You’ve got to be kidding. We’re not letting this asshole in.”
“It ain’t our call to make. Lyra decides who she fucks, not us.”
Dean shakes his head. “This is fucking stupid.”
Marcus grunts before moving out of the way, and as I inch closer, his hand whips up, a sharp finger pressed hard against my chest. “If you upset her again, I will personally tear you limb from limb. Understood?”
I nod. “Loud and clear.”
There’s a beat as they both watch me before Marcus finally drops his hand away, and as I step past them and through the main entrance, I feel them both staring at me like I’d personally insulted their families. Though I suppose that’s exactly what I did by leading her on and walking out on our night early.
Moving deeper into the bar, I’m hit with the smell of citrus and whiskey, and the familiar chaos of Black Velvet unfolds around me. The dance floor is packed, and the bartenders are working fast to fill orders the crowd is calling out. Something tells me this is exactly what Lyra pictured when she opened this place.
I find her immediately, standing behind the busy bar, wiping down a spill, and even from across the room, I can tell the black shirt clinging to her body is soaking wet. Looks like I just missed one of her award-winning performances. Honestly, nothing cuts me deeper. What I wouldn’t give to see her dance like that again. Preferably just for me in the privacy of my home with my hands all over her body.
Weaving through the throng of people, I make my way toward the bar, unable to take my eyes off her. She’s just as stunning as I recall. Those soft blond waves trail down her back, and the tiny silver piercings lining her ears catch in the neon lights. She looks like an avenging fucking angel all lit up just for me.
Stepping right up to the bar, I watch her for a minute, skillfully making her way through the customers, and there’s no denying that she’s good at what she does. She juggles those orders like Maddox juggles his poor life choices.
Then those green eyes land on me, and her smile vanishes. Her gaze narrows, and when her jaw sets, a grin pulls across my lips.
She seems pissed. Rather than scanning me from head to toe in the same heated way she’d done before, she’s looking me over now like she’s trying to decide where to stab me. Perhaps I didn’t blow it after all if she cares enough to feel that kind of rage.
Lyra glares at me, bracing a hand on her hip. “Oh, you’re alive. What a shame.”
“That seems to disappoint you.”
Her lips twist into a scowl, but her eyes dance with venom. “Don’t take it personally.”
Ahh fuck.
I deserve that, but in my defense, I told her not to take it personally. It’s not my fault she can’t follow instructions. Though she seems like the type of girl who would lose her shit if I pointed that out, then I might not walk out of this bar with my balls intact.