Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men 9)

I started to turn to see what had stolen her attention, but she grasped my arm to keep me facing her. “We should probably talk about this somewhere else. Yeah, let’s talk about this somewhere else.” Then, tightening her grip on me, she yanked me forward, hurrying through the crowd away from whoever she’d spotted.

I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone I knew, or anyone chasing after us for that matter.

“Who the fuck are we running from?”

“What?” Julianna glanced back at me, her eyes frantic and whole demeanor filled with disorder. Then she shook her head, trying to play it off, but totally failing. “No one.”

I snorted. “Right. Because I run from no one all the time.”

“We’re not running.”

“Uh huh,” I murmured. We were totally running as we wound around a group of loud, drunk guys talking in a cluster so she could use them to provide a shield for us. “And now we’re not hiding, right?”

With an irritated glance, she waved a hand. “It’s just…some guy.”

I nodded, suddenly understanding. “Ex idiot who can’t accept no, or straight-up stalker?”

She sighed. “Ex.”

“Ah.” I nodded once before frowning and glancing sharply at her. “Wait, how recently of an ex are we talking, here? You weren’t dating him when you and I—”

“What? No! Good God, no. He and I have been through for way over a year. Almost two years. Before you and I ever met. Before I even met your brother.”

“Wow.” My eyebrows spiked, impressed. “And he’s still having a hard time getting over you?” She must be pure magic in the sheets. I mean, the sample I’d tasted had been nice, and I’d been messed up since then, craving her, but to pine after her for damn near two years after having her… Maybe it’d been a good thing we’d never gone all the way. I wouldn’t want to miss her that much.

On the other hand, now I was really curious to know what it was like to get inside her if she left that kind of effect on a guy.

“I know. Thank you.” She sent me a grateful glance, and it took me a second to realize she was thanking me for being incredulous over her stalker ex’s persistence and not over the fact that I wanted to fuck her really bad. “And we were only married five months too, so why, why, why hasn’t he gotten a clue and moved on yet?”

“Whoa! Married?” I slowed to a stop, gaping at her. “Did you—hold up a second there. You just said married. You were married? He’s an ex-husband?”

When she tried to tug me back into gear but met with resistance, she sighed and sent me a harassed scowl. “Unfortunately, yes. I was married when I was twenty. It was a big, stupid mistake, but it happened, and I can’t erase it…as much as I’d like to.”

“Twenty,” I repeated blankly. Then I shook my head, too discombobulated by this entire information bomb to think straight. “You realize I’m still a year and a half away from twenty, and you’re throwing the number around like it was eons ago. Holy shit, how old are you?”

She scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business because it’s totally rude to ask a woman her age, but I’m almost twenty-two.”

I calculated in my head. “So you must’ve started working at Forbidden as soon as you hit twenty-one. Because your one year there is coming up in, what...March?”

“That’s right.” She blinked at me strangely. “How do you remember that?”

“Hmm?” I glanced at her before shrugging. “I’m a genius. So why, again, are you having me run away from your ex with you? I seriously doubt he gives a fuck about me.”

“Oh.” Startle

d by my question, she let go of my arm. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. You can totally go.”

“What the fuck ever.” I grabbed her hand. “I’m not abandoning you when you’re acting like this.”

“Like what?” She paused to scan the crowd. “I’m not acting unusual.” Then she must’ve spotted him, I guess, because her entire body gave a little twitch and her eyes filled with…what was that emotion? Fear? Tightening her fingers around me, she set off again, tugging me along with her.

“You’re acting completely unusual,” I argued, frowning as I glanced back. When I caught some dude scanning the crowd, I figured that was probably him.

The ex-husband.

He started to look our way, so I moved to block her. And he kept scanning his gaze past. Blowing out a relieved breath, I returned my attention to the woman weaving us through people.

“You’re the Julianna Radcliffe,” I said. “You make grown men cry at your feet when all they want to do is worship your beauty.”