Only Mine (Honey Mountain #5)(27)

Yeah, I’m watching you, motherfucker.

He whipped back around, and Dylan pulled away, her gaze moving to where he sat, and then she slid her chair over a few inches and took a sip of her water as I waited.

And I waited.

“What the fuck was that?” I whisper-hissed, and her head shot up to look at me.

“That was nothing. Don’t make it a thing. Your dad and Roger will be here soon.”

“I’m asking you to tell me who the fuck that was. You either tell me or I’ll go over there now and ask him myself.”

Her mouth fell open. “He’s just a guy I went out with once. One freaking time. We’d talked on the phone for a few weeks until I agreed to go out with him, but he turned out to be a total creep. Enough said. They’re here.”

This was not done. I’d get to the bottom of it.

“Sorry, we’re late. You know how the press gets,” my father said, as he took the seat directly across from Dylan, and Roger took the last open seat.

My mind was still reeling about the asshole who was sitting across the restaurant.

“No problem at all. I’m excited to fill you in on all the amazing meetings we had over the last two weeks.” Dylan paused when the server approached the table, and we all quickly placed our orders so we could get down to business.

I sat back and let her run the show, only piping in when specifically asked to. This was her moment, and she’d earned it. She’d worked her ass off on our trip, and I’d be lying if I claimed credit for half of the guys being interested in a future with the Lions.

She’d done her homework, and she’d charmed the hell out of each and every one of them.

Our food was set down, and we continued talking while enjoying lunch. But I couldn’t get my mind off the fucker who had clearly left her shaken, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Out of my peripheral, I noticed him move toward the restroom. I made sure Dylan wasn’t paying attention as my father and Roger grilled her with endless questions.

“Excuse me,” I said as I pushed to my feet.

They nodded and continued with the conversation as I slipped down the hallway toward the men’s bathroom. When I stepped inside, the asshole was just zipping up his pants, and I moved to the sink, turning on the water to wash my hands.

He moved to stand beside me, and my gaze locked with his in the mirror.

“Oh, hey.” He cleared his throat as he scrubbed his hands together under the faucet like he was getting ready for surgery. He was nervous. “I just want to warn you, man-to-man. Don’t get too invested with that one.”

I turned off the water and reached for a few paper towels as I took him in. “And why is that?”

“She’s a complete tease. I took her to the best restaurant in that hokey-ass town she lives in, and we go back to her place, and she shuts me down. She thought I was there for a glass of wine and some small talk. The girl is batshit crazy.” He turned off the water and dried his hands.

Is that why you keep calling her, even though she blocked your number?

“So, you’re the kind of dude who thinks if he buys a woman dinner, she owes him something?” I moved into his space.

He put his hands up, and a nervous laugh escaped. “It usually doesn’t even take dinner, but yeah, I’m a grown-up. I’m not courting some high school girl.”

My blood boiled, and my hands itched to slap the shit out of him.

“Yet, she’s probably half your fucking age.”

“Listen, man. I know you like her, but just a fair warning. She kicked me in the groin and then pulled a knife on me. She’s fucking nuts.”

A knife? Interesting.

“I wonder why she felt the need to defend herself and then use a weapon. And if she’s so fucking crazy, why are you still calling her? Why’d she block you?” I moved forward, forcing his back against the wall.

“I—er—I was hoping to clear things up.”

“What things are you looking to clear up exactly? That you bought her dinner so you should be allowed to fuck her? Is that what you mean?”

His eyes widened, and he looked away. The weak piece of shit.

This guy was an entitled prick.

And the only fucking way Dylan Thomas would pull a knife on him is if she felt threatened.

I wrapped my hand around his neck and pressed my thumb against his Adam’s apple. “Do you know how easy it is to cut off someone’s airflow? Literally, it’s just all about applying pressure.”

I pressed my body weight against him, and he didn’t move. His words were barely audible. “I’m going to call the police.”

“I don’t think so, dickhead.” I chuckled. “You see, I can say that you threatened me, and I was defending myself. And I highly doubt you want me to make a scene in front of those dudes you work with out there. I doubt anyone would look highly upon you for forcing yourself on a woman and then continuing to harass her.”

He gasped a little bit when I applied a bit more pressure. “Okay. I’m sorry.” He whimpered like a little bitch.

“Yeah. You will be. If you so much as look at Dylan Thomas again, I will hunt your ass down and fucking end you. You won’t be the first one I’ve done it to, so don’t press your luck.” Sure, I was trying to scare the fuck out of the guy. I’d killed in battle, but he didn’t need to know that.