Mid-bite, I replied, “Fuck no.”
“No?” He took a piece of bread and handed the basket to Dominick. “Why? Suddenly feeling … taken?”
“Ahhh.” I tossed my napkin at him. “I see where this is going.”
“Do you?”
“Fuck, don’t you start with me too.” I got up from my chair, holding the wooden frame, and said, “I’m going to the head. When I return, no more Jo talk. Understood?”
I flipped them off when they laughed and stumbled toward the back of the restaurant in search of the restroom. Once I got inside, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I took it out, the screen showing a notification from Instagram that Jo had posted a new photo.
At some point, I’d set those up.
And I never stopped them.
Why the fuck did I do that to myself?
The alcohol flowing through my body caused me to slide my finger across my phone, pulling up the picture. She was standing near the water, a set of keys dangling from her hand, looking at the Miami skyline. The caption read: Until next time, Miami.
Damn it, she was fucking gorgeous. That body—that perfect, delicious, curvy body—was in a pair of cutoffs and a tank top, sneakers and a baseball hat.
She made casual look as sexy as naked.
“Mmm,” I moaned as I stared at her, my dick getting hard, my hands clutching my phone, wishing it were her instead.
I knew her move date was coming up.
And I knew the next photo she posted would be in LA.
I didn’t want to see it.
I didn’t want to be tempted.
That girl was my weakness, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t forget her.
But still, I needed more.
I pulled up her last message and read it again.
Jo: No, that’s what you believe. I believe in us.
My thumbs were hitting the screen, and suddenly, I was pressing Send.
Me: If you believed in us, then why did you do this to US?
Jo: Would it have changed anything if I’d told you sooner? Wouldn’t the outcome be the same? You’d still want nothing to do with me. I’d still be heartbroken over you.
Me: You should have told me before I touched you. Not after.
Jo: That’s what you want to take back? How loud you made me scream? The way you ravished my body? Jenner, you could barely keep your hands off me. But if that’s the part you wish you could do over, then good luck with that.
She was right.
I fucking hated that.
That despite how many women I’d slept with, none of them compared to her.
That even if I had known she was Walter’s daughter, I didn’t know if I’d have been able to stop myself. Because from the moment she’d sat next to me in the sportsbook, I had known I had to have her.
And the moment my lips touched hers, I knew I couldn’t stop with just a kiss.
I’d needed to taste her.
I’d needed to touch her.
The same way I needed her right now.
Me: Why are you Walter’s daughter?
Jo: Don’t say it like that. Don’t make it a bad thing. It doesn’t have to be.
Me: Bullshit.
Jo: Stop being afraid that my father will fire you.
Me: I feel like a shady motherfucker who stabbed him in the back. He trusts me, Jo, and this would ruin that.
Me: Do you know what my other clients would say if they found out? Jesus, the whole fucking town would be locking up their daughters. I don’t want my reputation to be hit that way.
Jo: Really? Because I’m pretty sure you’ve already slept your way through LA, and you weren’t worried about your reputation then …
Me: You should have been a lawyer.
Jo: My smart mouth is one of the things you love about me.
Love.