Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(24)

“I didn’t see her much once she started high school, so we made a deal. Whoever had the feather could ask the other for anything. You didn’t have to agree, but if you did, you had to go through with it.”

She takes a small sip of her spritzer, moistening those heart-shaped, bee-stung lips I can barely stop myself from kissing.

“What did you wish for?”

“Time. I wanted to watch a movie with her, go shopping, or have her braid my hair. She wanted money or that I’d cover for her whenever she stayed out partying late. She held onto the feather for weeks but never backed out of a wish. It changed when she started college... I can’t remember the last time she didn’t back out.” She takes a deep breath, shrugging softly like it’s not a big deal, but her eyes tell a different story. She’s disappointed. “You should join them before they leave without you.” She points to where Toby and Adrian shoot me impatient stares. “Goodnight, Nico.”

She spins on her heel, not letting me get a word in, and walks toward the bar.

I can’t fucking move watching her hips, hidden under the flared skirt, sway from left to right; the bows on the back of her heels; the one-inch-wide strip of lacy fabric running from her neck and disappearing under the skirt.

How can she show so little yet be so sexy?

She hands her wine back to the bartender, and as she turns to leave, a cocky-looking prick wraps his arms around her middle, pulls her back, and whispers something in her ear.

And that’s enough to flare my temper.

She spins back to face him, his hand gliding down her spine and stopping on the small of her back as he towers above her. I know that kid. Justin Montgomery. He’s the triplets’ friend from college. A football player, I think. Loud, pompous, and spoiled by his rich mommy: a small-screen actress.

I watch them talk. I’m facing Mia’s back, so I can’t see her face when Justin laughs, shaking his head at whatever she said. My temper flares more when he spreads his fingers over her back, pressing her closer to his chest.

She’s not his to touch, but she’s not reacting.

Not pushing the asshole away.

He dips his head, grazing his lips along the crook of her neck, and moves his free hand to her butt, squeezing hard.

That’s when she braces against him. The gesture lacks resolve like she doesn’t really want him to let go, and I’m hit with a bad case of deja-vu.

I’ve seen this before.

Too many times.

Flashbacks flood my mind, summoning endless nights when I saw Kaya out on the dancefloor, letting some random douchebag grope her while I sat in the booth, watching her piss-poor attempts at breaking free.

She didn’t want to break free, though. She just made it look like she wasn’t letting the man touch what was mine.

I wish I’d known she did it on purpose.

She wanted me to burst into flames, fly down the stairs, and beat the hell out of the guy who did nothing more than put his hand up the skirt of a girl who let him. I wish I saw through the ‘I’m so sorry, baby. I tried to stop him, but I was so scared!’ bullshit.

Not a weekend went by without a brawl. Not one without shit hitting the fan. Kaya loved my temper. She loved my jealousy and fueled the fire with bucketloads of gasoline.

Seeing me throw my fists was the biggest turn-on for her. Whenever I made someone bleed, she dragged me out of the club to suck my dick or ride me in the back seat of my car.

She trained me like a puppy—instant reward.

The overprotective, possessive side of my personality didn’t help me see reason. I was blind to the obvious for seven long months, losing my goddamn mind whenever anyone touched even one inch of her body... whenever she looked at me with those beautiful, theatrically scared eyes.

It wasn’t until I caught her cheating that I saw our relationship in a different light and Kaya for who she really was. A manipulative, vile drama starter. An attention seeker. A leech sucking out my energy.

Once the unexplainable spell she had me under dispersed, I swore I’d never let another woman get me under her thumb like that. I’d never get involved with another drama queen.

And here I am, watching Mia turn around, away from Justin. Her big, round eyes scan the room before they cut to me, helplessness painted across her pretty face.

She’s just like Kaya. A damsel in imaginary distress.

She let Justin touch her. She didn’t do anything to stop the asshole groping her, and now she shoots me the look. The please help me look Kaya sent my way every weekend.

Fuck my life.

No matter how appealing the idea, I can’t leave her to fend for herself. My brother is into that girl. Not for long because I’m not keeping this to myself. I’ll tell him she’s not worth the hassle, but for now, I can’t walk away.

The triplets consider her their little sister.

They’re protective of her.

Probably because she gives off that deer-in-the-headlights vibe... she has them wrapped around her finger.

My temper goes from zero to prison when Justin cuffs Mia’s wrist, not letting her leave.

I cross the room and nail his face before he sees me coming. Next thing I know, he’s on the ground, clutching his bleeding lip. Another flashback hits me, fueling my anger to the point I could crack open Justin’s skull like an egg. The faces of all the guys I put in a similar predicament flicker on the backs of my eyelids. So many unnecessary fights.