Page 307 of The Tempted

“Mom, focus, who ishe, exactly?”

“One of your brother’s friends. There was trouble tonight—”

“Is he okay?” I interrupted.

“Yes, he’s with Adrianna and the baby but he sent this dope to come and bring me to your apartment. Your brother wants us both in the same place until things calm down. Fucking Victor Pastore, I could kill that man with my bare hands!” My mother said, sounding exasperated. “You know your apartment is a mess? And Mia, is she on drugs? The girl hasn’t shut up since I got here.”

“ONE!”

“Do you know this clown?” Lou asked me over his shoulder.

“Mom, did you send this guy here?”

“I didn’t send him. Blame your damn brother, actually, blame Victor Pastore. It’s all that son of a bitch’s fault.”

“TWO!”

“Lau?” Lou persisted.

“I’ve got to go mom, see you in a few,” I said, quickly ending the call and hurrying to Lou’s side before he broke Anthony’s friend’s nose and there was bloodshed.

I wonder which of thedonshe sent this time.

“It’s okay Lou, I didn’t know my brother was sending someone for me,” I answered, reaching up to kiss Lou’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure you want to go anywhere with this guy?” he said, turning his attention to my ride, causing me to turn around and look at him too.

It was him.

The guy from earlier, the one who grabbed my wrist and I thought was just another creep trying to get in my pants. Only, instead of looking like sex on a stick, he resembled a mass murderer.

“Hiya handsome,” I said, offering a smile as an apology for all the trouble I may have caused him.

He grunted.

So it would take more than a smile.

I had waited most of my teenage years for this moment. You know the one—when having an older brother finally has its perks because his friends are hot and not twice his age or mobsters. At twenty-one I had given up on the dream, but now I was staring at one of Anthony’s friends—and he wasn’t an old geezer. I leaned forward and stole a glimpse of the fingers he was cracking as he glared up at Lou. Nope, no pinky ring either! Score.

His eyes met mine, and holy fuck! He looked at me confused for a minute. It didn’t take me long to understand why. It was because I had changed and I wasn’t wearing six layers of paint on my face anymore. It was just little ‘ole me, plain Jane, Lauren. I frowned, pushing my glasses further back onto my nose with my index finger nervously as I took him all in.

He was well over six feet and when I moved to stand closer to him, he towered over me. He had chocolate brown eyes that probably melted the panties off of any girl he ever looked at—I’d gladly throw mine away. The pair of well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and cut at the knee. He was wearing Timberland boots—(my favorite, but I was a sucker for fresh white kicks on a guy too), oddly the laces were missing from his boots. The heather gray thermal he wore stretched over his broad chest and shoulders, molded to his skin perfectly. He also wore a leather jacket type thing which had patches sewn into it declaring him a prospect, whatever that meant.

A real deal biker.

Thank you, Anthony.

“You’re staring,” he mumbled, taking hold of my wrist and dragging me away from Lou and The Pink Pussycat.

“Sorry,” I shrugged. “It’s just you’re not like my brother’s otherfriends.”

“Thank Christ for that,” he said, as he took big strides across the parking lot dragging me behind him. “Why’d you disappear from me before?” he grumbled over his shoulder.

“I thought you were a creep,” I admitted honestly.

“You Bianci women really know the way to a man’s heart,” he hissed, pulling his keys from his pocket and unlocking the doors to a truck, shooting down my dreams of catching a ride on the back of a bike.

His phone rang.

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