“No idea. I’m not her keeper anymore.” Luca runs a hand through his short hair. “Care to share what you’re doing hereuninvited,Colt?”
Colton’s eyes dart to me, then narrow on his friend. “Why? You have some pressing business toattendto?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,Ido.”
“You were supposed to be at the gym with me an hour ago.” Colton crosses two beefy arms across his chest. “Not like you to blow off our workouts this close to achampionship.”
“I had shit to do.” Luca’s tone darkens. “You’re not mybabysitter.”
“No, I’m your fucking manager,” Colton snaps back. “And since when was you catching a little tail more important thantraining?”
Luca moves so fast, I don’t even see him cross the room. One minute, he’s standing at my side, the next he’s up in Colton’s face, a look of absolute fury clouding his handsomefeatures.
“Say one word like that about Delilah again in front of me,” he murmurs in a deadly soft voice. “See whathappens.”
Colton shoves Luca back and raises his hands in surrender. “Think you’re saying enough for the both ofus,Luke.”
For a prolonged moment, the two men glare at each other, about to come to blows. Overme. I’m overcome by a strong desire to melt into thefloorboards.
“I really should go home anyway,” I murmur, swallowing hard. “I’ve imposed on you longenough.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk to the coffee table where I left my clutch purse and car keys. I hear a muffled argument going on behind me as I slip my high heels back on, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Just before the front door slams closed, Colton’s voice carries in mydirection.
“I’m sure I’ll see yousoon,Lila.”
I turn to say goodbye, but he’s already gone. My eyes drift to Luca, who’s standing in the middle of his living room, arms folded across his chest. There’s a menacing expression on his face as he eyes the clutch purse in myhands.
“We still have shit to discuss,Delilah.”
“You have to go train.” I clench the bag a little tighter. “And… I have togohome.”
“I’ll meet Colton later. Now, you’re gonna finish your pancakes and then you’re gonna tell me what the hell happened with your boss that led to youborrowinga two hundred thousand dollarBentley.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’rebossy?”
“Anyone ever told you you’reevasive?”
“Evasive is mymiddlename.”
“Thought it wasJames.”
My eyes narrow. “How the hell do youknowthat?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes the distance between us. I fight the urge to back away as he reaches out to take the bag from myhands.
“Sit down. Start talking. I’ll give you a temporaryreprieve.”
I blink. “From our syrupbattle?”
“Sure,” he agrees, eyes gleaming in a way that makes me suspect he might not be referring to syrup at all. In fact, as I watch him walk back to the breakfast bar in languorous, self-assured strides, I’m almost positive he’s referring to something else that almost happened between us, when his lips were an inch from mine and our hearts were beating the same staccato rhythm and my self-control evaporated like heat off asphalt on a steamysummerday.
Momentary insanity — that’s the only explanation I can think of to explain why I’d ever in a million years let Luca Buchanan kiss me, after I’ve spent the past six months avoiding him ateveryturn.
Well… that… and the fact that he’s the sexiest man I’veevermet.
Crap on a caesar salad, hold thecroutons.
ChapterFive