Take Your Time (Boston Love #4)(23)

“Colton O’Leary. Nice to meet you, Mrs. White.”

I roll my eyes at the board game reference and slip my hand into his.

“It’s Lila. And we’ve actually met before,” I say, voice wry.

“When?” His brows lift skeptically. “I think I’d remember meeting you. Especially if you were wearing this…” His eyes scan me up and down. “…outfit.”

“Colt,” Luca growls warningly.

“Shockingly, I don’t actually always wear this.” I pull my hand from his and cant my head to one side. “In fact, I hardly ever dress up like a cosplay character, unless I’m acting out some kind of kinky bedroom fantasy with—”

“Delilah.” This time, Luca’s growl is even more menacing.

“Oh, relax, I’m kidding.” I wink at Colton. “Mostly.”

His grin gets huge. “I swear, I’d remember you. When did we supposedly meet?”

“New Year’s Eve. Luca’s last fight against Jack Forrester. You let me and my friends cut the line to get in without paying a cover. Thanks again, by the way.”

“Ah, you must be a friend of Zoe’s. I don’t do that for just anyone,” Colton murmurs, glancing at Luca. “Speaking of the minx, have you spoken to her recently?”

Luca shrugs. “Last I heard, she and Parker were island hopping across Southeast Asia.”

“Sounds miserable,” Colton drawls sarcastically. “She coming back to this time zone anytime soon?”

“No idea. I’m not her keeper anymore.” Luca runs a hand through his short hair. “Care to share what you’re doing here uninvited, Colt?”

Colton’s eyes dart to me, then narrow on his friend. “Why? You have some pressing business to attend to?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

“You were supposed to be at the gym with me an hour ago.” Colton crosses two beefy arms across his chest. “Not like you to blow off our workouts this close to a championship.”

“I had shit to do.” Luca’s tone darkens. “You’re not my babysitter.”

“No, I’m your fucking manager,” Colton snaps back. “And since when was you catching a little tail more important than training?”

Luca moves so fast, I don’t even see him cross the room. One minute, he’s standing at my side, the next he’s up in Colton’s face, a look of absolute fury clouding his handsome features.

“Say one word like that about Delilah again in front of me,” he murmurs in a deadly soft voice. “See what happens.”

Colton shoves Luca back and raises his hands in surrender. “Think you’re saying enough for the both of us, Luke.”

For a prolonged moment, the two men glare at each other, about to come to blows. Over me. I’m overcome by a strong desire to melt into the floorboards.

“I really should go home anyway,” I murmur, swallowing hard. “I’ve imposed on you long enough.”

Without waiting for a response, I turn and walk to the coffee table where I left my clutch purse and car keys. I hear a muffled argument going on behind me as I slip my high heels back on, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Just before the front door slams closed, Colton’s voice carries in my direction.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Lila.”

I turn to say goodbye, but he’s already gone. My eyes drift to Luca, who’s standing in the middle of his living room, arms folded across his chest. There’s a menacing expression on his face as he eyes the clutch purse in my hands.

“We still have shit to discuss, Delilah.”

“You have to go train.” I clench the bag a little tighter. “And… I have to go home.”

“I’ll meet Colton later. Now, you’re gonna finish your pancakes and then you’re gonna tell me what the hell happened with your boss that led to you borrowing a two hundred thousand dollar Bentley.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?”

“Anyone ever told you you’re evasive?”

“Evasive is my middle name.”

“Thought it was James.”

My eyes narrow. “How the hell do you know that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes the distance between us. I fight the urge to back away as he reaches out to take the bag from my hands.

“Sit down. Start talking. I’ll give you a temporary reprieve.”

I blink. “From our syrup battle?”

“Sure,” he agrees, eyes gleaming in a way that makes me suspect he might not be referring to syrup at all. In fact, as I watch him walk back to the breakfast bar in languorous, self-assured strides, I’m almost positive he’s referring to something else that almost happened between us, when his lips were an inch from mine and our hearts were beating the same staccato rhythm and my self-control evaporated like heat off asphalt on a steamy summer day.

Momentary insanity — that’s the only explanation I can think of to explain why I’d ever in a million years let Luca Buchanan kiss me, after I’ve spent the past six months avoiding him at every turn.

Well… that… and the fact that he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

Crap on a caesar salad, hold the croutons.