She’s on a date?

I feel like I’ve just been punched in the chest.

Is this the guy she was on the phone with the other week? The one she said, “I love you,” to?

The guy looks like a dick. Sure, I can’t see him properly from here, but he’s definitely not good enough for her.

No man could be.

She’s amazing.

And she looks beautiful tonight. She always looks gorgeous, but tonight, seeing her out of her work clothes, makes her look different.

Her hair is down, like usual, the blonde ends brushing her shoulders, and her lips are painted red.

But she’s wearing a pretty white dress. It’s fitted over the bust and waist and flares out at the bottom.

She looks like a fucking angel.

“I’m gonna go over and say hello.” Andi rises from her seat.

I watch as she walks over to India. I see the real smile that India gives Andi and feel the envy at the hug she receives from India. And I stare unabashed as India introduces Andi to the dickhead she’s with.

I sip my lemonade as Andi turns, pointing to where we’re sitting. India’s blue eyes meet with me, and I feel a jolt go down my spine, careening straight for my dick.

Andi says something to her, and then they’re moving toward us.

How do I handle this?

Do I pretend not to know her?

I don’t want Kat to know I’m seeing a therapist. I don’t know the chick, and she could tell someone or sell it to the press. I don’t want that shit spattered all over the news.

Leandro Silva Seeing a Shrink.

Yeah, no, thanks.

Then, India’s standing by our table with the dickhead, and all rational thought leaves my mind.

I have to force myself not to stare. So, I give the dickhead a quick once-over.

Gray suit. Floppy blond hair. He looks like he just fell out of a Hugh Grant movie.

Prick.

“Dr. Harris, it’s nice to see you again.” Carrick is on his feet, greeting her.

He kisses her cheek, and I feel the urge to punch him.

“I’m still just India.” She laughs.

The sound greets my dick like a sweet kiss from her red lips.

“Yeah, never could get used to calling you by your first name.”

I decide to take decisive action—or should I call it, playing games?

Standing from the table, I reach a hand over it and say to India, “Leandro Silva. Nice to meet you.”

As she brings her eyes to mine, there’s no flicker of surprise, so maybe she expected me to act like I didn’t know her.

It kind of pisses me off that she was expecting it.

She slides her hand into mine, and I feel like she’s burned me.

“India Harris. It’s nice to meet you, Leandro.”

Our eyes lock.

She looks away first and looks straight at Kat.

Is that jealousy or disapproval in her eyes?

I hope for jealousy.

Her lips press together, the way they do when I tell her about something or someone I’ve done that she thinks is a bad choice for me.

Definitely disapproval then.

The knowledge bothers the fuck out of me.

A hand in Kat’s direction, I say to India, “This is Kat—” Fuck, I don’t know her surname.

“Kat Whisker.” She stands up beside me, reaching a hand out to India.

Kat Whisker?

I have to hold back a laugh, and it’s hard going. I can see that India has humor dancing in her eyes.

She would never laugh though. She’s too kind to laugh at someone in that way.

Carrick’s not so obvious or kind because the bastard laughs, which he quickly turns into a cough. Andi shoots a look at him.

Kat doesn’t seem to notice as she’s too busy eyeing India while shaking her hand.

“This is Dr. Daniel Walker,” India introduces the prick to everyone.

And, of course, he’s a doctor. I bet the asshole works with sick kids or something.

“Please, just call me Dan.”

He smiles at us, and I want to punch him.

“Dan’s an ER doctor,” India tells us. She sounds proud.

I feel a stab of jealousy, which is ridiculous.

Why would I be jealous?

“An ER doctor with a rare night off.” He smiles at India, his hand moving to rest on her lower back.

Now, all I can think about it ripping his hand off the small of her back and crushing it until he gets the message never to touch her again.

“Leandro’s a Formula One driver, like Carrick.” Kat slips her hand through my arm, curling her fingers over my bicep. “I’m sure you must have heard of him.”

“Leandro Silva, of course.” Dan clicks his fingers. He turns to Carrick. “And you’re Carrick Ryan. Great to meet you both. I don’t get a chance to watch much racing, but when I do, you two are always my firm favorites.”

Ass-licker.

He shakes my hand first. I make sure to give a firm squeeze. If he notices, he doesn’t let on.

“Well, we should leave you to it and get to our table.” India indicates to the waitress, who’s been hovering this whole time.

“Why don’t you join us?” Andi says.

I feel Kat’s hand tighten on my arm.

“That’d be okay, wouldn’t it?” Andi asks the waitress. She looks back to India. “If you want to join us, of course.”

India looks to Dan.

He smiles. “Of course. As long as you don’t mind us crashing your party.”

I feel like raising my hand and saying that I mind.




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