Page 81 of Boyfriend of the Hour

He slid onto the barstool next to Nathan and folded his hands together into one large fist. The motion made his elbow bump into Nathan’s.

Nathan didn’t move at all, barely even turned to look at Shawn. But I could tell he was watching and thinking. By the way a muscle at the corner of his jaw was starting to tick; I doubted it was anything good.

Shawn scowled at Nathan when he didn’t automatically give up the space. “You mind, guy? I’m talking with my girl.”

“Nathan stays where he is,” I suddenly found my voice.

Both men turned toward me, and the forces of both of their expressions—so different and yet equally powerful—had mebacking up against the sink behind me. I reached out on either side to grip the edges of the bar, like I was on a teetering ship threatening to toss me overboard in a storm.

“He’s a paying customer, Shawn,” I said. “You’re not.”

Nathan’s brows lifted above his glasses, and I knew what that meant. A customer? Really?

Shawn turned back to Nathan to give him his patented look-over, the one that most men understood as nothing good. It was a look that weighed the competition. Calculating just how many punches it would take to throw the sucker to the ground.

Anyone else would flinch under that black gaze.

Nathan didn’t move a muscle.

To my surprise, Shawn turned away first, then offered me a smug grin that had always reminded me of a shark’s. “Well, you always did like an audience, baby. Speaking of, you dancing tonight? I wouldn’t mind watching a little show myself.”

Nathan frowned, obviously confused, as he glanced down at my knee, then back at Shawn. His confusion was clear, and it made sense. After all, if Shawn was my boyfriend, wouldn’t he know about my knee? Or that I’d moved out of Nonna’s? Or where I’d actually gone?

This wasn’t the time or place to explain everything to him. Especially when I’d never explained it to anyone. Not even Marie knew the whole story.

“My knee’s busted,” I said.

“Still?” Shawn sounded annoyed.

“Just like it was the last time I saw you.”

“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for not wanting to hang around no cripple, gorgeous. I’m too busy to play nursemaid. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it’s the way the world works.”

Nathan’s eyes flared, but he still didn’t say anything. Instead, he took a very long drink of his scotch. Under normal circumstances, I might have grinned at the way his eyesreddened at the unfamiliar sharp bite. But right now, I had no more sense of humor than he did.

I sighed, then picked up a cloth and started rubbing a spot on the counter that was already clean. “What do you want, Shawn?”

Shawn’s smile disappeared. “I already asked. Where you been?”

“Around,” I replied sullenly. “I moved out. Listen, do we really have to do this here? I’m at work.”

Shawn drummed his fingers on the bar top and gave me another predatory grin. “I’ll behave if you can, Sunshine.”

It was a dare. And maybe one I might have responded to long ago. Back when Shawn used to rescue me from a chaotic house, sneak me into clubs I had no business going into, cheer me on as I danced on tables, and let him feel me up under them. Back then, it often felt like we were either fighting or fucking. There was a certain high to both.

A certain crash too.

“I told you in the fall I had to move out,” I said with short, clipped consonants. “Nonna went back to Italy, so she rented the house. You’d know all of this if you hadn’t dumped me and then gone straight to Diamonds. Chelle works there. How could you possibly think I wouldn’t find out?”

Shawn just grinned. “I knew you would. I made sure of it. Honest, I thought I might run into you that night.”

I scoffed. “In a strip club I never worked at? How dumb do you think I am?”

Another sharp grin. “You really want me to answer that, baby?”

My entire body flushed under that knowing gaze. And not in a good way.

Shawn sat back, hands up as if in surrender. “Hey, hey. I’m just being honest. What do you want me to say, you’re a rocketscientist? Sure, if that’s what you want to believe, you’re a fuckin’ Nobel Prize Winner.”