Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(57)
“It’s okay, I don’t mind. Now, kiss me, and go. I believe you’re golfing with your brothers today.”
“Yeah, but I’ll pick you up later. Pack a bag. You’ll stay in my bed tonight.”
◆◆◆
My brothers wait by the first hole when I arrive. I don’t mind golfing, but I can think of ten better ways to spend my Sunday morning. I do, however, enjoy catching up with my brothers. Before I caught Kaya cheating, we golfed every week.
Now that Logan and Shawn have kids and Theo’s about to become a dad, we decided twice a month is a safer option, but with their busy lives, we’ll drop it down to once a month soon.
“I’m telling you it’s serious!” Theo’s outraged voice cuts through the morning air. Narrowed eyes, gnashing teeth, and arms crossed over his chest: he’s pissed off. Cornered by the other two about something. “You want me to prove it?” he snaps, pointing between them. “Fine. You’ll fucking see.”
“No way it’s serious, Theo, don’t embarrass yourself,” Shawn says, startling when I drop my bag to the ground behind his back. “Hey, bro,” he drawls, his expression morphing into a cheeky grin. “Someone’s unusually cheerful this morning. Could a certain awfully young blonde you couldn’t keep your hands off last night have anything to do with it?”
“Are you still drunk?” I’m far from cheerful. In fact, a deep eleven marks my forehead because I don’t want to be here. I also know what’s coming, which isn’t helping the situation. “Go on,” I encourage them. “Get the digs out of your system. She doesn’t fit me, right?”
Theo scoffs. “Who cares? It’s not like you’re marrying her, right? Have fun, bro. She’s young, pretty, tight, and—”
A split-second rage consumes me in a blast comparable to an H-bomb. My fist whooshes back, then forth, connecting with Theo’s jaw so fast he can’t see it coming.
Even I didn’t see it coming.
He clutches his face, but I’m not done. I’m a fucking bull at a Spanish corrida, pawing the dirt, getting ready to charge, but I don’t get in his face like I want. Logan and Shawn grab my arms to hold me in place.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shawn yells, yanking me back a step. “What was that for?”
“He knows exactly what it was for.”
Theo lifts his hand, cringing when he touches his split lip, annoyed, amused, and apologetic as he looks me over. He was the one putting me back together after Kaya cheated. The one getting drunk with me until I stopped feeling betrayed and realized I should be thankful she was gone from my life.
By the look of him, he might have some sort of understanding of my paranoia.
He wipes the trickle of blood, glancing between Logan and Shawn with a smile. “Told you he’s fucking serious about her.”
Fuck. He’s absolutely mental. “You were trying to prove a point?” I ask, my jaw tight. “I could’ve knocked your teeth out!”
“You’d pay for new ones. You know I didn’t mean it, right? I just wanted to see if you’d snap.”
I shouldn’t snap. It’s not normal that I lose my temper faster than I can form a coherent thought.
Theo comes over, patting my back. “We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Next time you want to know something, ask the question.” I trail off, calming down slowly. There’s nothing new or extraordinary in my reaction. I was far worse when I was with Kaya, but... “Fuck, I need to get myself sorted. I can’t lose my temper like that around Mia.”
“True that.” Theo hands me a driver. “I don’t think she’ll handle your outbursts. We need to get to the root of this and fix the problem ASAP.”
“You want to psychoanalyze me?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at the sound of an approaching cart. “I’ll make it work, Theo. I’m fine.”
“Fucking peachy. My face proves that.” He points to his swollen lip. “You still got a decent shot. It hurts like a motherfucker.”
“Don’t say shit about my girl, and you won’t be in pain.”
TWENTY-TWO
Nico
LATER THAT EVENING, Mia sits on the breakfast bar when I enter the kitchen, my hair damp from the shower. She sips her wine, another glass waiting for me by the bottle.
“We’re going out,” I say, making room for myself between her legs. “Dinner. What do you feel like? Italian, Greek, Spanish?”
She hooks her index finger in the collar of my t-shirt, tugging until I get the hint and kiss her.
“Don’t do that.” I bite her lip when she sighs softly. “I know you love it when I kiss you, but you need to keep those sweet little sounds in for me.”
She peers up, her eyes glossy, velvet with desire. “Why?”
“I don’t have nearly enough restraint when you sigh and moan in my mouth.”
Her lips form a small o, and she sighs again, making my dick twitch. “I’m not hungry, Nico.” She tiptoes her fingers up my chest. “Not for food, anyway. I want to have sex.”
A ball of blazing heat detonates behind my ribs, the images those words summon redirecting the blood in my veins straight to my cock. “So do I, baby, but no rushing. I won’t fuck this up. We’ll get there when we get there.”