He takes a step toward her. “You were flirting with me.”
He’s delusional. I’ve had my eyes on her since we got here, and she never talked to him. She hasn’t talked to any men here. He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, but I’m at the point where I don’t fucking care.
He needs to get lost.
I stop beside Mia, my hands loose at my sides.
“You’re done here,” I tell him, calm but firm.
He scoffs, trying and failing to focus his bloodshot eyes on me. “She was flirting with me, leading me on. Why should I leave?”
She stiffens, her shoulder brushing mine as she moves closer to me. “That’s not true.”
“You’re lying.” He looks between us. “She’s lying, dude.”
“This is how it’s going to go.” I step into him, making him back away. “You apologize for harassing her, and then you get the fuck out of here for good. Am I clear?”
He snickers, swaying on his feet. “Apologize? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Tension rolls through my shoulders, and without another word, I cock my arm back and punch him in the face.
As a grunt of pain escapes him, Mia covers her mouth. The guy stumbles back, holding his jaw.
Teeth gritted, I step into him. “Still think I’m kidding?”
He shakes his head, shrinking away from me.
“Right. Now that we’re on the same page, I wanna hear how sorry you are.”
“Sorry.” His hand trembles as he staggers back. “I’m very sorry.” With one more wary look at me, he stumbles off.
As we watch him go, Mia straightens, no longer trying to make herself small, and I take it as a good sign.
She flattens her lips. “Was that necessary?”
“Yeah, it was.”
I step back and hold out a hand, gesturing to where our friends are watching. She stares at me long and hard. Then, she shakes her head and strolls to the bar.
The airin our bedroom charges the second we step inside. It’s almost four a.m., and I’m ready to collapse.
As Mia kicks off her shoes and heads straight for the bed, I say, “You’re taking the bed?”
Brow arched, she peers back at me. “You said you’re taking the floor.”
“And here I thought defending your honor would earn me some benefits.”
“You shouldn’t have punched him. Your”—she waves a hand at me—“presence is intimidating enough.”
I smirk at her. “Stop pretending you didn’t like it.”
The way her cheeks go pink sends a thrill through me.
“And don’t worry,” I say, “I’ll sleep on the floor. Luna gave me an amazing sleeping bag.”
I tug on the hem of my tee and pull it over my head. As it lands on the floor with a soft plop, I look up at her again. She’s watching, like I knew she would be. When her lips part and she inhales sharply, I know she sees it.
My tattoo.
