I hadn’t had any girl time in a pathetically long time. And it felt amazing. Just what I didn’t know I needed.
“Where to?” Roxy asked, bouncing up and down on her cushion.
“Oh! O’Malley’s is doing Battle of the Sexes tonight,” Jasmine suggested excitedly.
Gia whooped. “Let’s hit it.”
Little did I know that my new sisters were about to toss me straight into shark-infested waters.
And a certain man bun-wearing, whiskey-loving smartass smelled my blood in the water the second I walked through the door.
The image of Lexi in a bikini, splashing around in my goddamn pool, was haunting me.
My concentration had been fucked ever since she’d uttered those damning words. To make matters worse, she’d been prancing around my house in those silky little pajamas that were no more than a few tiny scraps of material sewn together with some lacy edging.
So, rather than go back to the house after work to endure more of that torture, I’d asked my brothers to meet me at our favorite haunt, smack dab in the heart of Brooklyn, O’Malley’s Irish Pub and Grill.
“Needed a night away from the ‘ol ball and chain, huh?” Luka snarked.
Nothing I hadn’t come prepared for.
“He’s probably just pissy that he can’t even get laid by his own wife,” Rome quipped.
All four of them snickered, Cris being the only decent one to try and hide it behind his glass of scotch.
I glowered. “Just for that, you dickheads can buy every round for the rest of the night.”
“Now, are you sure you don’t need to check in with the missus first?” Ace asked. “She may not want you staying out too late.”
“Ah, the husband curfew,” Luka mused. “I’ve heard of this.”
I couldn’t even threaten to kick all of their asses because I’d brought this upon myself, in more than one way. So, I was going to sit here and take my ribbing like a fucking man.
“I need more whiskey,” I grumbled.
Didn’t mean I wouldn’t be wallowing in a mixture of self-pity and sexual frustration while I did it.
The bar was beginning to fill up for the Battle of the Sexes event that was starting soon. O’Malley’s was popular for its live music, trivia nights, beer pong tournaments, karaoke, and a slew of random games to bring in patrons, like tonight. Because of the rising noise surrounding our table, I didn’t notice what had caught Cris’s and Ace’s attention over my shoulder.
“Did you tell them we were going to be here?” Ace frowned at Cris.
“I only texted Jasmine where we were, like, ten minutes ago.”
I turned around on my stool and instantly locked eyes with Lexi’s sapphire gems. She froze on the spot, looking a little spooked and a lot intimidated. Gia, Roxy, and Jasmine preceded her to our table, all of them smiling and offering greetings.
Lexi approached much slower, like she was being led to the gallows. I wanted to soothe her nerves somehow, ease her anxiety. For some reason, I wanted her to feel comfortable not just around me, but around my family, as well.
Mother of Christ, she just had to look stunning, too.
The lightweight dress she wore was cream with a red rose print. Transparent long sleeves, cinched waist. And damn, was it short. Though it probably hadn’t been made that way. Lexi’s legs just made anything look too short. Those gracefully long stems were wrapped up in scarlet-colored tights that I wanted to tear off her body and shred to pieces. Her hair was held up by a clip, a few tendrils hanging down to frame her face.
And of course, she couldn’t go without her red lipstick, could she?
Cris kicked me under the table, breaking our eye contact. It was only then that I realized how long I’d been staring at her. He inclined his head toward Lexi, basically telling me in his silent way remember what we talked about and don’t be fucking rude.
Clearing my throat, I rose to my feet. When I ushered her closer, my body loomed over hers, but I kept my hands to myself. “Everyone, this is Alexia Kozlov. Lexi, this is Cris, Ace, Luka, and Rome. They’re dicks on any other day, but they’re going to fool you by trying to be charming tonight.”
“I thought that was your department,” she deadpanned.
That sent the entire table into uproarious cackles.
Our eyes met for the briefest of moments. Hers sparkled with pleasure, maybe even a little mischief. I felt my upper lip curl in response.