Page 45 of So Wrong It's Right

“I made the guys promise no naked women. Or nearly naked women. No women at all. No shots for me, either. I don’t want to be miserable on my wedding day. No shortage of sex jokes tonight, though.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

He claps me on the back. “I should go make the rounds.”

I send him on his way and think about my exit. I’ve stayed long enough that it looks like I’m serious about Stella and wanting to be part of his family. I wonder if she’d like to come over when she’s done doing whatever she’s up to tonight. We’ve spent the last three nights together, and I fingered her to orgasm in the car between the rehearsal and the following dinner earlier tonight. I might be addicted to her body, and that’s probably a bad idea. We’re having fun, but it feels like it could slip into something more serious too easily.

And neither of us want that. She made that clear when she made her hasty exit the other morning at breakfast.

I’m about to text her when I smell something close to Axe. Do people still wear that?

I turn and the asshole ex that was harassing Stella the other night is smiling at me and holding out his hand. “You’re the new vet, right? Christopher? My name is Devon.”

I have too many manners to ignore him, so I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say with little enthusiasm. He’s obviously familiar with the weight room, but his too tight T-shirt reveals the puffy man-boobs of a steroid user. I’ve run into those enough at the gym. In my opinion, Stella deserves better than this asshole.

“What do you think of our little shitty town?”

I bobble the beer bottle in my hand. Devon is the first person I’ve talked to that disparaged Brazen Bay. Everyone who lives here seems to love it. “It’s beautiful. It’s worked out very nicely for me.”

Devon gets a douchey smirk and bumps my arm with his fist. “You’re still fucking Stella then?”

I’m reminded of every high school jock that gave me a swirly until I figured out how to get stronger. Taking a deep breath, I set my beer down and straighten to my full height, looking the asshole in the eye. “My relationship with Stella is none of your business.”

He chuckles. “Relationship? Dude, between you and me, you can do better.” Shrugging, he swigs his beer down. “She’s good in bed though, yeah? That tight pussy is hot if you can ignore the whiny bitch the rest of the time. And overlook the rolls.”

A halo of red circles my vision.

Rage turns from red to white hot and flashing behind my eyes. I pull back and connect my fist to his nose before I realize what I’ve done. And then, when I do realize what I’ve done, I slam him into the post. “You fucking say her name again, and you won’t have any teeth left.”

I had surprise on my side, but I forgot about the ‘roid rage. He starts back at me, rigid and puffed up. He lunges but misses when he’s grabbed by two men from the party. Megan’s boyfriend, Brad, takes one to the face from Devon, and that calms me down enough to stop fighting against the restraint of the two men holding me back. Shit. Megan is going to be pissed if Brad has a black eye in the family wedding pictures. And it’s all my fault.

Nash grabs the back of my collar and shoves me through a door near the back. “Cool down and go upstairs. We don’t do brawls in my pub, man.” He slams the door behind him when he goes back inside, and I realize I’m standing in the hall with the stairs leading up to Stella’s.

My adrenaline is racing. I should go home. I’m not in control right now, and I hate it. This is not me. Not how I want to be. I just started a bar fight. I don’t even know who I am anymore. What is happening to me?

I’ve never started trouble...anywhere before. I could have gotten arrested. Maybe I still could.

Did they kick Devon out, too? Is he standing on the street out front still? Maybe I should go check. Maybe what I need is to finish what I started with him. He deserves whatever he’s got coming—

“Christopher?” Stella is standing at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing bunny slippers and talking into her phone. “Yeah, thanks, Nash.” She hangs up. “Christopher, what is going on? Nash just told me to come collect my boyfriend from the hall in case you tried to go back inside the bar.”

I should be running out the door. Out of town. She should not look so attractive to me in her fuzzy slippers and mismatched pajamas. I shouldn’t be so hard from just seeing her in a hallway. I should not want her so much.

But I’m not thinking. I’m mad as hell about the way Devon talked about her. I’m pissed I didn’t get more punches in. I’m frustrated that I have lost the battle between my cock and my brain. And all the testosterone swirling inside me decides we need an outlet and we need it now.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Stella asks warily.

“Like what?” I say and take one slow step after another toward the stairs.

“Like a bull about to charge a matador.”

I smile and her eyes widen because I’m sure it’s not a friendly smile. It’s a predatory one. I take the stairs slowly, never losing eye contact with my prey. She wisely starts stepping backward toward her apartment door.

“Okay, now you look like Jack Nicholson just before he tells his wife ‘Here’s Johnny.’”

“Stella?” We’re in her apartment now, and I shove the door closed behind me.

“Yes?”

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