Page 66 of My Favorite Sin

Muffled laughter comes from the brothers in the booth, not realizing how perceptive this Phillip guy is.

“Jones, is there something you want?” Dan asks, bored by their interaction. “Or are you still licking your wounds over the one mill you lost fair and square?”

“Yeah, there is something I want. You have my money. I think it’s only fair I take away something precious from you.”

Phillip lunges forward with eyes set on me, and before I can react, there’s a flash of silver slicing through the air, heading my way. Dan pushes me behind himself. My other three brothers launch out of the booth and tackle Phillip, but they’re not fast enough.

I look down at the sharp, hot pain in my left arm, finding a stream of blood trailing down to my wrist.

“Fuck, Ally.” Dan grabs my injured arm, out of his mind with panic.

“I’m okay. The cut isn’t that bad.” And it isn’t. The fright is worse than anything.

He keeps swearing and grabs a bunch of napkins from a nearby table, pressing them to the wound on my forearm. All around us, people are gasping and watching Phillip struggle on the floor. The band has stopped playing. No one is dancing.

“Go, Dan,” Felix orders. “Get Ally out of here and take care of her. We’ll handle Jones.”

Dan takes me by the waist, shielding me with his body as he pushes through the crowd. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Ally. How deep is the cut?”

“Don’t apologize. Everything is fine.”

“Everything isnotfine. You nearly got stabbed. If I hadn’t pulled you out of the way in time—” He cuts himself off with a groan and a whole lot of self-hatred. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ALLY

Dan sits me on his couch, kneeling in front of me with a box of first aid supplies. He takes hold of my injured forearm, being delicate as he disinfects the wound. The apartment is filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the distant sound of traffic. Through the dim glow of his red neon lights, I watch his face contorted with guilt.

He hasn’t spoken much since we left The Scarlet Mirage, other than to ask how my arm is feeling. But I’ve felt the self-loathing within him every second of the journey back here.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I whisper.

He finishes with the disinfectant and searches through the first aid supplies, avoiding my gaze.

“This day, every year, is horrendous. A reminder of what a fuck up I am.”

“Dan.” I rest my good hand on his, forcing him to stop rummaging for medical equipment and listen. Though, he still won’t look at me. “Having you in my life is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“I almost got you killed.” His hand slips out frombeneath mine and he dresses my wound, taking care as he winds a bandage around my forearm.

“You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. You make me feel like I’m not alone in this world. You believe in me during times when I don’t believe in myself. When we met, I was having frequent panic attacks. You were the only one who could help me. You’re my person.”

He breaks at my last words, his head hanging between his shoulders. I place my hand on Dan’s cheek, feeling him tremble beneath my touch. My heart aches, seeing him in this much pain.

He takes a breath and finally meets my eyes, cupping my jaw in his palms. “Ally, if anything were to ever happen to you, I don’t think I could live with myself. You’re all that is good in this world. You’re everything to me.”

“Nothing will happen to me.”

Dan closes the distance between us with a soft but desperate kiss. His hands move from my jaw to the nape of my neck, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. And then the gentleness is gone and he’s clinging to me like he’s afraid I’ll vanish. I slide forward on the couch, spreading my legs around Dan’s waist, inviting him in closer.

Our kisses grow deeper and more urgent as I press my body to his. Dan’s breath comes in ragged gasps, hot against my lips as his hands slip down my waist and up beneath my dress, grabbing my hips and ass. His fingertips dig into my skin, and I’m sure they’ll leave small indents in their wake. Maybe even slight bruises. I need his mark on me. Only his. I want to look at myself in the mirror after all this is over and see evidence that reminds me of the passion from this night.

I tilt my head back, exposing the column of my throat to him. He takes advantage, pressing open-mouthed kisses tomy skin, each one sending a jolt of desire straight to my core.

Dan’s lips draw back, leaving an unwanted coolness to my skin. I meet his gaze, and though guilt still lives within his eyes, he’s overpowered by pain. The same pain I feel in myself, knowing this will be over between us tomorrow. We can’t continue sneaking around. But I told Dan we have this one day together where the future isn’t our concern. I won’t dwell on the heartache. Tonight, I’m his.

Tomorrow is a different story.

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