Page 14 of The Four Leaf

She holds her hands up before throwing a rag over her shoulder. “Alright, alright. I promise.”

I hesitate, but not nearly as long as she did, before I give her a very quick play-by-play, revisiting some details I already told her earlier today. The tension, the obvious shift, the feelings, my fifteen-year-old lie, and then… the shower incident.

By the time I finish, I’m flushed all over again, and my heart is doing a weird palpitating thing. Meanwhile, Willow seems completely unbothered and maybe even a bit entertained. Her eyes are creased in the corner, and one side of her lips is curled.

She remains silent as my pulse rages on, accepting my snack from Klien and nodding to Tommy, who returns to his seat.

My knee bounces against the metal of my stool, the entire thing vibrating as my legs shake. She gives me a deep look before nodding slowly, pushing my plate of food toward me. When I don’t move to touch it because of the anxiety gripping my limps, she finally speaks.

“As your older sister and the moreforwardof us two, I have to say I’m pretty damn proud.”

“Proud?” I gawk, surprise sweeping through me.

“Yeah, I mean. I would have thought you would have run out with your tail between your legs.”

I yank the plate closer and tear off a corner of the croissant, biting it a little too aggressively. “I’m not a prude, Will.”

“Didn’t say you were, but clearly, you’re having a bit of trouble processing. Youexperienced a little more sexual liberation and you don’t know what to make out of it. But let me ask you this...” She leans over the bar, narrowing her eyes as she draws closer. I suck in air and hold it, unsure what to expect.

“Did you like it?”

The air escapes as my lips part, my mind floating back to every sound and movement he made. The ache and desire coil low in my stomach, telling me just howbadlyI liked it. My voice is barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

The loud pop of my sister slapping the countertop makes me and Tommy simultaneously jolt upright in our chairs. “Alright then, good. Because something tells me he likes more adventurous things than a little self-exploration.”

I pinch off another piece of the croissant, slowing down enough to spread some of the butter across the top. When I pop it into my mouth, I really taste it this time, the flavor spreading over my tongue and making my toes curl. Hmm… maybe that's the liquor. “What do you mean?”

Willow tends to a small group of men who approach the bar. “You’ve seen him on the field, Sam. I don’t think you’re going to get soft kisses and foot rubs.”

“I’ll lose the foot rubs?” Adrian has given me plenty of massages while lounging on the couch, and let me tell you something, I’d probably go mental if I never got another one of those.

She huffs, clearly annoyed as she pops the tops off each of the mens’ beers. “You’re such a ditz.”

One of the guys wearing a pair of khakis and a tropical print shirt, leans over. Even close to the bar, I can smell the potent liquor seeping from his pores. He nudges me with his shoulder before clasping a strong hand over my wrist, and his smug sneer causes my stomach to curdle. “I can give you foot rubs, doll.”

Maybe because I’m a tad inebriated or still teetering on low blood sugar, but the next few things happen in slow motion. My sister grabs an empty bottle from the bin under the bartop, her intent clear as she lifts it up, but in the next second, she smiles and drops it back into the disposal.

I assume it’s because she sees I’m turning to tell the asshole to get his grubby paws off me, but instead, an ominous chill stops me before I get a word out.

“I’d like to see you manage such a feat after I break both your hands.” Adrian’s husky voice is deadly, shooting through my core and raising the fine hairs over my entire body.

The man’s neck cracks when he whips his head around to look at Adrian, probably ready to say something he’d regret. But the moment he makes eye contact, it’s clear he wants no part in whatever he sees raging in Adrian’s eyes.

He mumbles a quick apology, but when he releases my arm, Adrian grabs his. “A proper apology is in order.”

It isn’t a request. It’s a downright order. There’s a frightening shift in the air, and the instant sheen across the guy’s forehead lets me know he feels it too. His murky blue eyes flit to me. “I’m sorry I touched you. I-I should have politelyofferedto rub your feet.”

My gaze flashes to Adrian’s, who’s looking at the spot on my arm where the guy was holding me. There’s a fire and anger I’ve only ever seen on my TV when he’s smashing into an opponent, and even then, it pales in comparison to right now.

My body hums its approval as I nod to the guy, keeping my eyes on Adrian. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Appreciate it,” he replies, his voice tight with Adrian’s lingering hold.

Another beat passes before Adrian releases him and lets him rejoin his friend who vanished the second he had his drinks.

“You didn’t need to do that.” I don’t say it as loud as I intend to, my nerves still a jumbled mess. “He wasn’t any–”

“No one touches you, Bambi. Not without your consent.” Adrian nods to Willow, who smiles and starts making what I assume is his regular drink. He turns to the side and places one forearm on the bar and the other hand on the back of my chair. His hazel eyes burn a trail up my frame until he reaches my face, to which he grins. “And I’m the only one who gets to massage your feet.”

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