Page 15 of Her Billionaire Hero
“I call your couch,” I said before gulping down the dark beer.
Shrugging her narrow shoulders, she seemed cool with my idea of napping over at her place. “As long as you leave some room for me, we’re cool.”
Napping together on her couch? Hell yeah!
“Who’s your friend, Sloan?” a man asked from out of nowhere. He held a mug of beer in one hand and the other fisted at his side as he stood next to Sloan.
“What the hell?” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”
The man was older than her. I figured it must be a friend of her father’s or something as he seemed to be in his fifties. He had salt and pepper hair, a strong jawline, and his pale blue eyes stared right at me. “I’m Preston Rivers.”
“Oh, shit!” I hadn’t meant for that to come out of my mouth. “I mean, hi.”
“This is Baldwyn.” Sloan’s aggravation at her ex was evident in her voice.
“I thought you said this wasn’t a date, Sloan.” His eyes were still on me. “I’m her husband. Surely she’s told you about me.”
“She’s said a bit. Mostly that you’re not her husband anymore.” I picked up my mug of beer to take a drink and to stop myself from saying anything totally stupid—like “get the fuck out of here, you’re being a total cock-blocker, you old fuck.”
“Preston, just leave.” Her cheeks were as red as a tomato. Anger bubbled inside of her, making her shake a bit.
I didn’t like what I saw. “You should do what she says, man.”
Apparently, he didn’t like me telling him what to do. His eyes lit up as if I’d smacked him in the face with a white glove, silently demanding a duel. “You should mind your business, boy.”
No one had called me boy in years. But Sloan’s pleading gaze told me not to take the carrot that her ex dangled in front of me. I could totally kick the old fart’s ass if I wanted.
“Preston, please,” she whimpered.
I hated hearing her speak that way. She was a strong woman in every other way. This jerk-off made her drift right back into what he’d molded her into—a doormat for him to scrape his dirty feet on. And I wasn’t going to let him do that to her.
“She’s not as strong as you think she is, Baldwyn,” he said, his eyes softening. “Toying with her will only leave her with scars on her psyche.”
“Dude, I’m not toying with her. You seem to be though. And I think that’s pretty fucking shitty of you, to be honest,” I said. “She’s one hell of a person. Sorry you didn’t see that before.”
Squaring her shoulders, Sloan took a deep breath then got up to face the man she’d been married to. “Leave.”
“Come with me, baby.” He tried to take her hands in his.
With a quick step back, she evaded him. “Don’t call me that. Leave. Now.”
His shoulders sagged and his lips turned into the shape of a horseshoe. “Fine.” He stepped back then looked at me. “Your ass will be mine if you hurt her.”
Isn’t that ironic?So many things popped into my head to say to the man who’d obviously hurt her. But all I did was nod. I saw no reason to give him an opportunity to stay and talk more shit to me.
Sloan stood there, watching him until he placed his mug on the bar then walked out the door. Only then did she take her seat, staring with glazed eyes at her plate. “I’m sorry about all that.”
“And embarrassed.” I saw it on her face. “Don’t be. You can’t control him.” I took a drink of the ale then sat it down on the table. “But I’ve got to be honest with you.”
“I know. I was weak.” A long sigh came out of her mouth.
She had no idea what I was really thinking. “Not at all. You stood your ground, Sloan. I’m proud of you. Fucking proud.” Grabbing my mug, I held it up. “A toast to you, fiery maiden!”
Others around us held up their mugs too as they’d witnessed the whole thing. “Fiery maiden!” they all echoed me.
A smile broke free from her pink lips and she picked up her mug, clanking it against mine. “Thank you.”
Chapter Eight
