Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3)

He remains hunched there for a minute watching me, but I don’t raise my gaze to his. As if he can see I’m not convinced, as if it matters to him, he stays here with me.

“How about this,” he says. “Tell me how I can make it better. I know I can’t make the pain go away, that’s gonna take some time, but what would make you happier right now? What would lighten your load?”

“Someone punching him in the face,” I mutter.

“I can arrange that,” he says easily.

“Alison Marie hating his stupid face. Breaking his heart the way he broke mine.”

Rafe nods in consideration. “Doable.”

“Never seeing him again, ever.”

“You live together?” he asks, reviewing the facts.

I nod my head, looking at the damp, semi-destroyed cloth I’m wringing. Now it has mascara stains all over it. Those might not come out. He shouldn’t have given me this pocket square. There are literally cloth napkins five feet away.

“How about I move him out?” Rafe suggests.

My startled gaze jumps to his. “What?”

“I’ve got dinner plans, but you’re closing anyway, right? How about you give me your address and apartment key, and after I eat, me and a persuasive friend of mine will go to your apartment and assist this asshole in vacating the premises? He’ll be gone before you get home.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. He isn’t home anyway.”

“So, we’ll move him out without his help.”

“You don’t know which stuff is his,” I point out.

“He doesn’t have stuff anymore. He surrendered it all when he cheated on you with Miss Two Names. If he has questions, I can explain that to him. I’ll take a box, throw anything that looks like his into it, and then I’ll deliver it to him at Alison Marie’s place. I can get her address pretty easily, just give me your phone. Then maybe my friend and I will have a little chat with him, let him know you’re over and he shouldn’t come around again, just in case he’s confused you for someone who’s going to put up with this shit. Maybe then I’ll tell Ali who to call if she’s looking for a real man. Slip her my number on the way out.”

At that, I grimace. “Ew, I don’t want you to sleep with her.”

Amusement warms his handsome features. “I won’t. But she doesn’t need to know that until she’s already ditched his ass.” Spreading his hands, he says, “Look at that. I just made all your wishes come true. You have an apartment all to yourself, no more loser boyfriend with a broken nose and not much else to his name, and he’s suddenly been dumped by his slutty new girlfriend for a much bigger fish. You win the break-up.”

A little bubble of hope expands in my chest. “You wouldn’t really do all that for me.”

“Sure I would,” he says easily.

“Why?”

He winks at me like a rascal. “Sounds like a fun Friday night.”

“You could get in trouble,” I tell him.

Now he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

I shrug, fiddling with his pocket square. “I’m just saying. You can’t go around breaking noses and intimidating cheating assholes without repercussions.”

“Sure I can,” he assures me. “Your little shitstain ex-boyfriend can’t touch me.”

I know that’s true, and even though I don’t condone violence, I can’t deny the little burst of delight that courses through me as I look up at him again. Of all the things I thought might come out of this awkward encounter, Rafe Morelli riding off into the night to defend my honor was not one of them. “It would save me some time…”

“And bring a smile to your face?”

I nod my head, a little shyly.

“Then it’s done,” he says easily, standing upright and holding out his hand. “Apartment key.”