Page 52 of Heartless Mafia Prince

“Definitely.”

Ryah turned to her friends. Faith peeked up from their huddle, offering a flirtatious smile. She was playing a dangerous game. Good thing my woman didn’t trust her ass, anyway. My table was known as bad boy grounds. My football teammates didn’t beg for pussy. And certainly wouldn’t hound a chick for her virginity. We never had to. Briar, Jeremiah, and Easton were cool. They never gave me shit about my mafia status.

“Looking forward to the last game of the season, Friday?”

“Jeremiah, I am. And you?”

“Yeah, I can give my undivided attention to basketball.”

Easton jabbed his elbow into his ribs. “You’re the only player who has football and basketball scouts checking you out.”

Briar laughed. “Lucky bitch.”

We snickered.

“Not my fault my mom has hops on the court and my dad can throw a mean football down the field.”

“Seriously, that’s cool, Jeremiah.”

“Thanks. Rocco.”

“Have you decided if you’re playing college ball?” Easton tossed a French fry into his mouth.

“Nope.”

“Rocco, you should play at Princeton.” Ryah sipped her iced tea.

My brows lifted. “Who said I was attending Princeton?”

Ryah rolled her eyes, leaning on her forearms. “I don’t care if you do or not.”

“You care.” I gripped her coils and bit the side of her neck.

“I just figured your inner rage would get the best of you if you were in North Carolina or Alabama, and I was at Princeton with all the boys. Because make no mistake, I’m going to the school I’ve dreamed about my entire life. With or without you.”

Easton ran his hand over his short dark hair. “Your woman is a fucking shark.”

Everyone at our table laughed.

“I know. And I love it.”

***P***

The second I threw the truck in park, Ryah jumped out. Arms folded, she strutted toward the row of industrial warehouses my dad owned. I drove the pickup whenever I took care of business. The industrial park was conveniently located near downtown Philly.

Sprinting behind her, I scooped Ryah off the ground. “You’re still mad about our conversation at lunch?”

“I’m over it. Put me down.”

“Ryah, I behaved like an ass. There was no excuse for that statement.”

“You’re right, there wasn’t.” She swung her black sneakers against my shins.

“Shit, Ryah. You’re like a...” I lowered her to the cement.

She turned and stared at me. Flames burned in her eyes. “Like what?” Her nostrils flared.

I cupped her face and swept my lips across hers. “Like a girl version of me. You don’t take my shit.”

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