Page 61 of Broken Player

Sliding my palm against her cheek, she leaned into my touch, and I pressed my lips to her forehead. I wanted so much more, but it was all I dared to do right now. "Do you trust me, Freckles?"

Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip. "Yeah, I think I do."

It wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement, but it was a lot of progress in just a few short weeks. "Good. Meet me at the valet stand in fifteen minutes. I'm kidnapping you tonight."

"But-"

I pressed my finger against her lips, silencing her. "Nope. If I'm about to lose you to another guy, I deserve this one night with you to plead my case."

Her eyes darted between mine while she thought about it, and the moment she gave in, I saw it. Her shoulders relaxed, and her gaze dropped to my mouth, which made my dick twitch. I knew she wanted me just as bad as I wanted her, but she was resisting. Barely, but she was. Which meant I still had work to do and only one night to do it.

Nodding once, she squeezed my bicep before turning and walking off the dance floor and meeting up with her sisters. I didn't take my eyes off of her until she was safely engaged in conversation with the two of them. I refused to let her asshat fiance anywhere near her for the rest of the night.

"Where is he?" I demanded, walking off the dance floor with Connor at my side. Quinn caught my eye and started crossing the room to meet up with us.

"Over there," Connor grunted, pointing toward the back of the room by a set of doors that led outside.

We stopped our path toward Yates to wait for Quinn to catch up. "What's going on?" Quinn asked.

I jerked my head in Yates's direction, where he was surrounded by a couple of his douchebag Ivy League buddies. I bet none of them had ever been punched in the face before. I didn't mind rectifying that situation right now, and I flexed my fingers into a fist as my heart rate picked up. I'd been itching to smash my fist into that fucker's face since the moment I met him and based on the smirk on Connor's face, I knew he wouldn't mind hitting a couple of those guys, either.

And as for Quinn? Well, I had a feeling he hated Yates more than I did, and that was saying something.

Connor shifted his eyes toward where Yates and his cronies huddled near the exit. "The asshole fiance wants to start shit, and we're going to let him," he explained, cracking his knuckles. I swore he just grew a couple of inches and got even broader in the last thirty seconds. I was happy he was on my side.

"Fuck, finally. I get to punch him in the face if it comes to that," Quinn called dibs.

"Only the first punch. I want a shot at him, too," I countered.

"Fine, but that guy with the pink tie is mine," Connor added, narrowing his eyes even more in their direction.

I chuckled darkly. "What'd he do to you?"

He shrugged one massive shoulder. "I don't like how he's looking at me."

"That's enough reason for me. You two ready to do this? No one has ever deserved a punch in the face more than that group of assholes," I insisted, looking to both of the men at my sides.

"Fuck, yes. I've been waiting for this day forever," Quinn enthused with a glare of his own to the corner of the room. We now had their attention. There were four of them and three of us, but I had no doubt none of them would be able to connect so much as one punch. One of them even looked like he'd never spent a day in the gym in his entire life. I was pretty goddamn confident of the outcome of this little altercation Yates was leading us to.

His overconfidence would be his downfall.

We passed right by his group of friends on our way out the exit, one of them deciding to try and step in our path with his arms crossed. Connor's shoulder checked him so hard, he fell into a table and knocked a glass of wine to the floor, spilling sticky red liquid across the shiny marble. I smirked but held in my laugh. Time for that would come later.

Their glares were on my back as we made it out into the hall. Once the doors closed behind us, I spun around to face Yates and his soft as fuck friends. They were even more pathetic up close.

To his credit, Yates didn't immediately cower or try to make peace. He must have felt emboldened by his buddies at his back. Or maybe his ego refused to let him back down. Either way, I wouldn't throw the first punch. I'd wait for him to make his move.

He got within a couple of inches of me and stuck his finger in my face, his cheeks red and his eyes a little wild. "Stay the fuck away from Ryan. She's going to be my wife, and there isn't a goddamn thing you can do about it." He was breathing hard, and I laughed in his face before slapping his finger away.

"I'd love to see you make me, cocksucker," I taunted, my muscles tense and ready for a fight. I almost craved it, the feel of his bones crunching under my fists.

One of his friends stepped up beside him, and Connor tensed next to me but stayed where he was. He knew I could handlemy own shit and didn't need him to step in. I flicked my eyes past a fuming Yates to his much smaller buddy beside him and then back again. "Looks like Digby over there wants to get his ass beat. Maybe you should tell him to step back in line," I goaded, chuckling again when the guy's cheeks flared red. I could practically see the steam pouring out of his ears.

One look at Yates's other friends, and I knew they had no intention of helping him out if this came to blows. The watch on my wrist vibrated as I got a text message, and I glanced down to look at it, seeing Ryan's name pop up.

Ryan: I'm at the valet stand. Where are you?

I smiled, and Yates stepped even closer until our chests were practically touching. We were almost the same height, but I was broader, all my time in the gym, and on the ranch paying off. He pressed his palms against my chest and shoved, but I held firm. I wouldn't let him move me even one goddamn inch. His eyes widened in surprise, and my smile grew until it turned menacing.

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