Page 223 of The Invite
“Bag it up and the letters until I get there.” I disconnect the call and flash Nessa a smirk. “At least we know it’s a man.”
Her lips twitch before she goes somber. “Don’t underestimate him, August.”
Driving faster to her place, I shoot a text to Maverick to meet me there. If there’s a letter waiting for her on the doorstep,it means my bluff didn’t work. It will put Nessa at risk. Though, I’m hoping Anonymous took the bait.
Half an hour later, we arrive at her house. Her gaze immediately lands on the black Harley parked in the driveaway.
“Who is that?” she questions.
“Maverick,” I answer as I park the SUV behind it. “He’ll stay with you until I return.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she complains.
“Then consider him a guest.”
“I didn’t invite him.”
“An old friend then.”
“Hardly,” she scoffs. “He’s not sta—”
Unbuckling the seat belt, I grab her throat and shut her up with a kiss. She doesn’t return it, slapping my arm, but a bite to her tongue melts her defiance. Lust and need swim in her pupils when I pull back. “Do you want me distracted while I’m out?”
“No.”
“Then he stays.” Once she agrees, I let her go and unlock the doors. Nessa slips out just as Maverick strolls out her front door and whistles upon seeing us together.
I scowl at his antics while Nessa stays reserved.
I’m a sick bastard for liking it. But fuck if I care. Her smiles and sharp tongue all belong to me. I interlace my fingers with her small ones and press her body to my side.
Maverick leans against her porch and crosses his arms as we climb the short stairs and stop in front of him.
The grin on his face widens and he wiggles his brows at Nessa. “Want happened to never wanting either of us, Miss Davenport?”
Color hits Nessa’s high cheekbones in embarrassment.
I punch him hard on the arm until his shoulder slips from its perch, and growl, “Apologize.”
“Dayum!” Disbelief paints his features as he regards me while rubbing the sore spot. Gazing at a slacked-jaw Nessa, he impressively says, “Who knew you’d be the one to make an honest man out of my grumpy best friend? Excellent work, Miss Davenport.”
“I still didn’t hear an apology.”
He rolls his eyes and bows his head dramatically. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Miss Davenport.”
“It’s… okay,” she murmurs.
“Also, nothing’s changed,” I retort to him. “She still doesn’t want you, asshat.”
“She would after one night wit—”
I clock his jaw before he can finish the sentence.
“Augustus!” gasps Nessa.
“Stop injuring the bodyguard, dude,” he grumbles.
“Then stop running your mouth.”
