Page 47 of Broken By A King

Twenty-Three

TINY

"Stone!"

Why is he so off of the rails today?

"Please go back to wherever you came from and mind your business. You're embarrassing me."

"No."

"I'm not asking, son of Jack."

"When he goes, then I'll go."

"This is ridiculous,Tiny. If you don't explain to me who this is in ten seconds, I'm calling the cops."

"I live with her," Stone says with a smirk. "Can't you tell?" He's purposely trying to give Bill the wrong idea about us.

I shove back with all my might. I just want to turn around and throttle him, but he doesn't budge. In fact, he bends over and brushes his lips against the side of my face. Dangerously brushing them close to the valley between my shoulder and my neck.

"You're not going anywhere," he growls with authority in my ear.

Goose bumps start to rise on the back of my neck, and the vibration of his threat goes straight to my core. My throat feels too parched to allow me to speak.

"I'm sorry, Bill, but do you mind if we continue this conversation later."

Bill looks at me, then Stone, then me again.

"Are you serious? I'm talking about a future with you, and you're just going to let this overdeveloped thug interrupt us."

"A future, huh? l thought you didn't have a man," Stone says to me.

I try whipping my head around, but it's hard with two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle holding my body in one place.

"I never said that."

"I distinctly remember you saying at breakfast that you weren't seeing the biker. That you weren't seeing anyone."

"Breakfast? And what biker?!"

"She never told you about the biker?"

"Stone Barringer, you are acting completely out of pocket right now. I'm going to kill you when I finally get out of this chair."

"Ariana evidently has men interested in her by the dozens. Also, I made a promise to her father that I'd look out for her best interest, and you don't seem to be it. It would probably be best for you to let this go. She's not the one for you."

Stone leans back over.

"Don't ever tell anyone my last name again," he whispers.

I slam my hand on the table, because I don't have enough room to turn around and slap him with it.

"Go. Away. Convict."

I know that was kind of a low blow, but at this point the entire juice bar is looking at us. People come here for the laid back vibe and nutritious smoothies, and we're giving them a show worthy of a reality show award. If those even exist. I've had enough.

Bill gains his composure and takes a look at all the glances from around the room. He doesn't like negative attention. It doesn't mesh well with his sensibilities. He stands up and begins to smooth the sides of his white lab coat. Something he does when he's trying to calm himself.