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“You fucking ruined it, you dick!” Dash snapped, throwing a pile of napkins at him.

“Yeah,” Charmer chuckled. “You leave the stupid questions ‘til last, asshole!”

“What the fuck does money even taste like, you twat?” Bull shoved him.

The kid just put up his hands, looking a little upset that he would be getting no answer, and retreated back to the bar with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Does Princey know?” Dash asked, sliding me a fresh beer across the table.

“No,” I rolled my eyes, knowing that I would be asked that question again and again.

I knew how the boys must have been feeling.

Conflicted.

Wanting to roast me, congratulate me, throttle me, high-five me, slap me. There’s always that urge to fist bump your mate for getting laid, but what about if it was your mortal enemy?

I knew they’d all be waiting for Prince’s reaction before they let themselves have their own.

“I’m gonna tell him tomorrow at work,” I said, taking a drink.

“You sure telling him there is a good idea? Surrounded by needles and sharp objects?” Bull raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he might do the right thing and tattoo ‘fuckwit’ across your damned forehead,” Shag barked a laugh.

We all collectively rolled our eyes.

“I’m gonna head off,” I said, taking one more sip of my drink and standing, shrugging my outer jacket back on.

“Already?” Freddie asked with a frown.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Shouldn’t drink too heavily the night before a tattoo. Right, Shag?”

“Yep. And you’d deserve every fucking spot of ink.”

“Yeah, yeah. Catch yas,” I waved, turning and heading out of the club.

I knew they would be there for much of the night, talking about my sex life, wondering what Princey’s reaction would be. But to be fair, none of us knew how he would really react. I was just hoping that our close relationship would save me from an ass kicking, or worse, being kicked out of the club all together.

Buckling my helmet and straddling my bike, I revved her to life and took a few breaths before peeling out into traffic. I took the long way home, as I usually did when I had a lot on my mind, but ended up there eventually.

When I let myself inside and flopped face-first onto my bed, I could still smell her perfume on my sheets.

How long would that woman haunt me for?

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, contemplating doing a load of laundry right that second just to be rid of any reminders of her.

7

ZARINA

Rome’s mouthpressed into a hard line to suppress the smile I could see she was battling to contain.

“Really?” she said on a strangled breath with her eyes closed.

“Baby,” Antoni warned in a deep voice.

“Sorry. Sorry.” She shook her head, probably trying to clear the cache of jokes she had lined up and ready to go in her mind.