“One more dance.” I capture her hand. “Then I’ll get you whatever you want. I promise.”
Her smile falters so briefly I would have missed it if I wasn’t so focused on learning every inch of her face. But then she nods and steps into my space, places her cheek against my chest, and rocks in time with me as if this is the only place she’s meant to be.
I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing, but now that we’re barely moving, I notice that the crowd has thinned out. Clover and Savvy sit happily at the bar giggling with each other while Elle leans against Cian O’Brien, who I saw again at the hardware store on my fourth time in there.
Others have taken up tables in corners. But straight ahead, puffed as a peacock with his arms crossed over his disgusting beer belly, is Harry Turd, glaring at me as though he’s plotting my murder.
I raise my brow when I catch him staring on our second spin, and though his curses don’t reach our ears, I can tell by the spittle flying that he’s going to be a problem—for me. I’ll do whatever I can to keep that fucker away from Madison.
My Madison.
“Let’s get you that drink,” I say when Turd takes a step in our direction. The sooner I can get her to the bar with her friends,the easier it’ll be to protect her if he turns out to be a bigger prick than I expect.
When Madison Ryan slips her hand into mine and allows me to lead her through the bar, I know I’m going to fall for her.
We reach her friends, and I can tell by Savvy’s expression that we’re being followed. With one hand at Madison’s back, I usher her to the bar in between her two friends who immediately angle their legs to box her in.
The only person who has ever protected me that way is Grey. Madison has an army at her side. I’m not jealous—envious maybe, because the love these people have for each other is something I haven’t seen much of in my life.
Out of the corner of my eye, I recognize a couple of guys heading in my direction. On my other side, a group of football players, including Ethan and Trevon, are closing in too.
Fuck me. Are they all about to beat my ass for dancing with Madison?
“I don’t have time for this.” I groan to the ceiling, then square my shoulders and turn toward Turd.
Within seconds, I’m flanked on either side as a human wall of protection is formed.
“We’ve got you, Mr. Brax,” Ethan murmurs.
On my other side, Cian rumbles something deep in his chest. He’s about my age but a mountain of a man who makes my 6’4’ frame seem small.
“We haven’t seen Madi this happy in years. You hurt her, and we’ll gut you faster than a fish and feed you to the pigs,” he growls.
I chuckle until I realize he isn’t joking. “I’m glad she has all of you.”
“He’s an oxygen thief who can’t take a hint.” Cian nods in the direction of Madison’s ex.
Turd stops a few steps away, and both Ethan and Cian nudge me forward with their elbows.
Well, I guess this is my fight now. At least they know I’m better than this asshole.
I rest my hands on my hips and wait. I’m not a fighter, but I can hold my own and I know how to handle egos like this—I’ve been doing it my entire life. If I give him enough time, he’ll stick his foot in his mouth before I have to do anything.
“You going to say anything?” he snarls.
I shrug. “I’m not the one with the problem.” Making a show of glancing left, then right, I ask, “Any of you have a problem?”
About ten heads shake no.
“Only with that gobshite.” Cian’s voice booms over the music that slowly lowers to a whisper.
Remind me to never get on his bad side.
“Fuck off, Cian. You taking this dipshit’s side shows what a traitor you really are. And you boys, I’m your fucking coach. Show some respect.”
“Respectfully, Mr. Harry, you’re our ball boy,” Trevon deadpans. “You haven’t been able to…coach in years.”
“I’m on the fucking coaching staff,” Turd bellows.