Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men Book 9) (29 page)

BOOK: Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men Book 9)
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Her lips parted as she studied my face. After a second of just soaking in my words, she murmured, “It’s scary how fucking perceptive you are.”

With a chuckle, I reached out to trace my finger over her cheekbone. “And yet I think you like it.”

“Yeah, well…” She grinned and rolled her eyes, appearing rueful. “Except for the fact that now I sound boring, since I represent my plain, practical underwear, yeah, your talent of reading me’s not so bad.”

“Practical but
colorful
,” I reminded her as I leaned across the table toward her. “Truth be told, I like it. I like
you
just the way you are.”

When I pressed my mouth to hers, she pressed back, humming in her throat and coasting her fingers over my hair. “I like you too,” she admitted.

“Good.” I kissed her again.

Not far away, the sound of laughter made me pull back and glance over at the girls who’d been bothering her before. They were watching us openly and whispering back and forth.

Obviously, our kiss had sent them over the edge.

I scowled. “Huh. Maybe the interracial thing
does
bother them.” I rolled out my middle finger and flipped the girls off.

“Colton!” Julianna grabbed my finger and covered it with her hand, while the other table gasped and quickly looked away.

“What?” I shook my head, confused. I’d gotten them to mind their own damn business, hadn’t I?

Juli gritted her teeth. “
You’re
the one who told me to forget what other people thought of us.”

“They were upsetting you,” I argued moodily. That pissed me off.

She sighed. “Well, two wrongs do not make a right.”

“Yeah, but are we absolutely certain my flipping them off was really wrong?” I asked. “I mean, I was just calling them out on their assholery. You do that to me all the time.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I call you out because I know you’re better than that.”

My chest swelled. “You do? Just how good do you think I am, baby doll?”

Lifting her chin, she scowled. “Stop being arrogant.”

I laughed just as our waiter came around to discreetly set our receipt on the table next to me. He didn’t ask if we needed anything else, but sent me a tight smile and said, “Have a good night,” before darting a glance toward Juli and taking off.

I gazed after him, beginning to feel the same paranoia Julianna was; that people were judging us. Lifting my eyebrows her way, I said, “I guess that was our cue to leave.”

“Message received.” She grabbed her purse, suddenly eager to go.

I tossed down enough cash to cover the dinner and took her hand. As we walked out of the restaurant, I glanced around. A couple people watched us covertly, but most of them glanced past, thinking nothing of our relationship. It felt like I was conducting some kind of experiment; studying the social behaviors of the average Homo sapiens in their natural habitat. And I had to conclude, a majority of the population had evolved nicely, which was why the minority stood out so starkly, starkly enough to make Julianna feel uncomfortable.

I kissed her temple, and she pressed tighter against my side, holding my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said as soon as we were on the sidewalk and starting back toward her building. “I didn’t understand how out of place this restaurant would make you feel.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

But I did anyway. “Did this bother you when you went on your date with Brandt?”

Briefly burying her face in my shoulder and inhaling me as if she needed my scent to soothe herself, she finally looked up. “Strangely, no.”

I frowned, tipping my face to the side as I studied her. “Why not? He’s just as white as I am.”

She shrugged, not meeting my gaze. “I don’t know.”

Unease pierced my stomach with a gnawing burn I didn’t like. “So…you just liked him so much you didn’t care what people thought?” Which meant, she
didn’t
like me that much.

But she looked up at me and gripped my arm, saying, “No. I think it was just the opposite actually. When he picked me up that night, it just…it felt more like two coworkers hanging out than an actual date. Friendly but not that personal. I knew we wouldn’t touch or hold hands or, you know, any of that, so I guess I just assumed other people would see coworkers together when
they
saw us. In fact, I never worried about the interracial aspect with him at all, and I think that was because somewhere in me I always knew it wouldn’t go there.”

And just like that, the burn in my gut dissipated. “Then you think it
will
go there with me?” I had to ask, and my heart started to pound hard, anxious for her answer yet scared what she’d say.

“We do sleep together,” she said, but that was a fucking cop-out answer if I ever heard one.

She wouldn’t look at me either, so I pressed. “Come on, baby doll, you know what I’m really asking. Where do you think this is going with us?”

Her eyes looked so big and brown when she looked up, I could see the same worry and anxiety in my gut stirring around on her face.

“Where do
you
think it’s going?” she countered.

I grinned and shook my head. “I asked first.”

“Then you should answer first,” she smarted back.

I threw back my head and laughed. One thing was certain; I loved verbally sparring with her more than anyone else on the planet.

But the fucking hell I was going to answer first.

As we neared a pub with muffled music pouring from the building and floodlights shining down on a couple of outdoor tables, a rowdy group of guys noticed our approach.

One stumbling drunk tripped from his tall-seated chair and leered. “Mudsharking it, huh?” He sent me a sloppy sneer. “You must like it dirty.”

I jerked to a stop and swerved my attention to him. “What did you just say?” My tone was not polite and in no way invited him to continue with that line of disgust.

But the idiot kept grinning and jerked his elbow at me as if we were buddies. He turned his face enough for the light to brighten a teardrop tattoo at the corner of his eye. I stared at it, trying to remember if those things meant you’d killed someone and gone to jail for it or if you’d just been close to someone who’d died.

“Seriously,” Teardrop slurred. “Do her tits taste like chocolate?”

“Hey, come on, man,” one of his friends encouraged, taking his arm and trying to pull him back. To us, he said, “He’s drunk.”

“Huh,” I answered dryly. “I’ve gotten drunk a lot without fucking insulting people.”

“Colton, let’s go,” Julianna spoke quietly into my ear as she tugged me away.

I was about to follow her lead when the dumb drunk broke away from his restraining friend and made a beeline for her.

“I wanna taste her chocolate titties.”

When Teardrop reached out as if to grope her chest, Julianna screeched and hopped away from him.

“Hey!’ I shoved his arm down. “Fucker, keep your hands to yourself.”

The drunk glared at me. “Why don’t
you
keep your hands to your own kind? You’re muddying up the water, asshole.”

And then he had the foolishness to swing at me.

Me
!

I know, what a dipshit.

From that point forward, it was on.

 

 

J
ulianna pressed a cold pack to my eye. I hissed out a breath and tipped my face away because it was freezing as fuck. But she scowled at me, tsked, and pressed it more firmly to my rapidly bruising skin.

“Stop being such a pansy.”

“Pansy?” I scowled at her out of my one good eye. Leaning against the trunk of a patrol car as we waited for an officer to give our statement to because I’d just gotten into my first fistfight, I thought I’d been coming across as pretty badass myself. And might I add, the other dude was currently being carted into the back of an ambulance. But apparently, all it took was one really fucking cold piece of plastic to the face to yank me down to pansy status.

Damn.

“So what happened here tonight?” one of the police officers asked as he approached, flipping open a little notebook.

I snorted and lifted my hand toward Teardrop, who was resisting other officers and even EMT as they attempted to get him inside the ambulance. I think he was still too drunk to realize he’d broken his arm when we’d fallen to the ground.

“That fucker started it. We…” I paused to motion between Julianna and myself, “were walking down the street minding our own damn business, when he left his table and stumbled toward us, calling me a freaking mudshark.”

The cop stopped taking notes and glanced up, blinking in confusion. “A mudshark? Isn’t that supposed to be a white woman with a black guy?”

“I
know
!” I lifted a hand to compliment him. “Thank you! That’s what I thought. The stupid shithead couldn’t even criticize us right. I mean, really? What a dumbass.” Pausing in sudden thought, I glanced toward Julianna. “What
is
it called when a white guy hooks up with a black girl?”

She blinked, letting me know she couldn’t believe I was even asking her that. But then she shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Oh well. It didn’t matter. I waved a hand and turned back to the cop. “Anyway, then that fucker reached for her breasts, saying he wanted to taste them, and—”

“He, wait. He reached for your—” When the officer spun toward Julianna, his gaze immediately dipped to her chest, since they were the topic of conversation, and he flushed bright red because she did happen to have some lovely cleavage going on under her ESU shirt. “Uh…” After blinking, he lifted his gaze. “Did he assault you, ma’am?”

“No.” Juli shook her head immediately. “He—”

“As if I’d let that piece of shit touch her,” I boomed, scowling at the officer for even suggesting such a thing. “I shoved his arm away before he could, and then it was
on
. He swung at me. I ducked. He swung again. I didn’t duck so well. I shoved him by the chest backward away from us. He swung again. I didn’t get to duck at all. Then Julianna tried to pull his arm away, so he whirled on her like he was going to hit
her
. But I jumped on his back, and that’s when we went to the ground. He landed first, which is probably why his arm is hanging all wrong like it is. And after that, it was just kind of a free-for-all. We both went after each other, punching and cursing.”

I shrugged, wondering if I should’ve mentioned
every
detail about what had just gone down, but whatever. I wasn’t going to lie. If it landed me in jail…fuck it. I would’ve done everything the same exact way if I’d had a second chance.

Then again, jail would mean I’d have to call Noel. And having Noel learn about this…
Fuck
.

That wouldn’t be so cool.

Since the cop was still busy scribbling down my account, I leaned in toward Julianna. “Do you think they’re going to call Noel?”

“I doubt it,” she whispered back. “You’re eighteen, remember?”

“Oh, right.” I blew out a relieved breath. “Sweet.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced at me. “How is that sweet? Being an adult means you could very likely go to jail right now.”

I still wasn’t too concerned about that. I mean, really, how long could a person spend behind bars for a freaking fistfight? Brandt had gotten into fights all the time back in his day, and he’d never gone to jail.

Okay, maybe I was being a bit delusional there. Oh well. Jail would be an experience.

“So…he swung first?” the officer asked, glancing up as he came to the end of his notetaking.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you acted in self-defense the entire time?”

When I nodded, he turned his attention to Julianna. “And you corroborate his story, ma’am? Anything to add or change?”

“Yes.” She nodded immediately. “I mean, no, I don’t have anything to add or change. He said it all exactly how it happened.” With a hard glance to me, she muttered, “Probably even shared more details than I would’ve. So, yes, I support his story all the way.”

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