“Tell. Him,” Dewayne repeated.
I couldn’t do that. Me and the guy threatening to beat my ass both knew I couldn’t deny it. He’d caught me with his mom last week. I could remember his face. Couldn’t remember his mom’s face but did remember the fury in his eyes. I’d seen it one too many times.
“What’s going on?” Rock asked as he and Marcus ran out and also stood between me and the guy. I didn’t have the heart to tell the guy his dear mom had paid me very well for that Sunday afternoon roll around her sheets. I wasn’t into older women. I used them. That was it. They had cash, and I fulfilled their fantasies. The dude wouldn’t be able to handle the truth, though.
“Trying to stop a fight,” Dewayne explained as both Rock and Marcus stood beside him, blocking me even more from the angry son of one of my clients. This was just another reason I needed to start demanding that I not handle business in clients’ houses. This shit happens.
“What did he do?” Marcus asked, glancing back at me.
I shrugged and took another shot of tequila.
“Guy says Preston slept with his mom, and he’s out for blood,” Dewayne explained.
“Shit,” Rock mumbled, and shot a warning glare back my way.
“Go ahead, Preston. Explain that ain’t the case,” Dewayne demanded again.
I was getting tired of that. I hadn’t spoken up yet. Had they not figured out that there was truth to this? Did they want me to lie to the guy and piss him off more? This guy and I had made eye contact that day as I’d pulled my jeans back on and headed out his mother’s bedroom door while she made excuses to her son. I hadn’t stayed around to deal with the drama. I just got the hell out.
“You got the wrong guy,” a voice interrupted. “He’s mine. He wouldn’t be sleeping with someone’s mom when he has me to come home to. So back off. I don’t want to hear any more of this.”
What the f**king hell?
Amanda walked around the wall of guys standing guard in front of me and crooked her finger my way. “Come on, baby. Let’s go. This guy’s confused you with someone else, and you’ve had too much to drink.”
Had I passed out? Maybe I’d had more shots than I intended.
“Manda, what the hell—?”
“Back off, Marcus. I got this,” she snapped, cutting off her brother’s angry question.
“Come on, Preston. Now.”
I didn’t question her. I set down my shot glass and stood up, then walked over to her. What was she doing? She slipped her hand around my waist and steered me away from the angry son and my friends.
“Follow me,” she said, and led me through the crowd and toward the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Probably not the best idea. I didn’t need to have Amanda Hardy anywhere near a bed. Especially as drunk as I was at the moment. But then again, maybe this was all a drunken dream. Which meant I could strip her hot little body of this clingy, sexy-ass dress and kiss all the places my dreams haunt me with at night.
Amanda opened a door and pushed me inside a pink-and-white bedroom with ruffles on the bed and a white teddy bear resting against the pillows. Hell, yeah. This was hot. Amanda naked on that bed. Fuck, I was hard.
“Sit down.” She shoved me toward the bed and then backed away from me. Not the best dream I’d ever had.
She put her hands on her hips and glared at me from across the room. Sexy. As. Hell.
“What are you doing? This is Marcus’s engagement party. You can’t go picking fights. What is wrong with you? Is everything a joke to you? Life’s just one big party for you, isn’t it? Well, wake up! You have friends down there who love you. They stand up for you even when they know you probably did screw that poor guy’s mom.” She stopped and shook her head in disgust. “God, please tell me she wasn’t married.” Then she put up her hand to stop anything I might say in reply. “No. Don’t tell me anything. I don’t want to know. Just stay in here. Sleep it off. Don’t ruin this night for Marcus and Low. They deserve to be happy. Marcus loves you, Preston. Don’t do something stupid to hurt him.”
She dropped her hands to her side and let out a sigh. She was disappointed in me. This was a good thing. Maybe she was even disgusted with me. That would be even better. I needed her to stop flirting. I needed her to stop making me want things I couldn’t have. Because, dammit, I wanted her. So very bad.
“I’ve got a date that I’ve run out on to save the testosterone party down there from throwing down one big ugly fight. All because you can’t keep your pants up around a female.” She dropped her eyes as she said the last part, and her cheeks flamed red. Did the idea of me having sex embarrass her?
She turned and walked back to the door. Her perfect round ass swayed under the thin material of the dress, mocking me with what I couldn’t ever have. What I’d never be good enough for.
“He better be good to you,” I said just loud enough for her to hear me if she was really listening. She stopped. She’d heard me.
Slowly she turned back around and stared at me with a confused expression. “What does that mean?” she asked, studying my face like it had all the answers she needed.
“It means that I don’t give a shit who his brother is. If he hurts you, I’ll hurt him.”
Amanda let out a short, hard laugh and shook her head. “Really? Really, Preston? You care if Jason hurts me? Because I find it very hard to believe that you care about my feelings at all.” Then she spun around and walked away, slamming the door behind her.