He simply laughs. “Nice work. You can’t even blame that fuck-up on me.”
Turning, I expect yet dread the idea of finding Miller behind me, but she’s gone. And I know with every fiber of my being she heard what I said.
I catch a flash of dark brunette hair over tattooed shoulders in the distance, exiting the main room and heading downstairs to the bathroom. “You’re a piece of shit,” is the last thing I say to an all too satisfied Dean before I chase after her.
She’s quick but I’m faster.
“Miller!” I shout loud enough for her to hear me, but she doesn’t slow down. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I can take care of myself,” she yells over her shoulder. “I had that handled just fine before you came around and made a scene.”
Is she fucking kidding right now?
“He grabbed you!” I do exactly that, circling her elbow to stop her.
“I can take care of myself!” She turns on me, anger evident. “How many times do I have to tell you that? God, you ignore me all night, then pull that? You’re giving me whiplash.”
“Ignore you all night?”
Fuck, it would seem that way to her, wouldn’t it? Little does she know I couldn’t make myself ignore her if I tried.
Yanking out of my hold, she charges down the stairs, headed to the women’s bathroom, but my long legs eat up the distance to get myself in front of her and keep her from getting any further. I’m two steps lower than her, putting us at eye level.
She crosses her arms over her chest like a brat and fuck if that doesn’t do something to me. “You gonna follow me into the women’s bathroom now? I’m not sure why you’re so concerned. I’m just the nanny, after all.”
Fucking hell.
I soften my tone. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s fine. I was the one who asked to see the old Kai.” She moves to get past me, but I step in front of her, blocking her path.
“That’s never been me. I just . . . fuck, I hated seeing his hands on you. If you want to know the old me, he was known to take care of his people no matter how recklessly he did it.”
My people. Her.
I can see the moment she puts that little piece together.
“I don’t need anyone to protect me. I’ve been on my own for a long time just like I’ll be on my own again come September. I can take care of myself.”
“Stop fucking saying that.”
“Saying what?” she tests. “That I can take care of myself or that I’m leaving soon?”
I run an aggravated hand through my hair, my chest still heaving with anger. “God, you drive me out of my fucking mind, Miller. He was touching you.”
“You know who else you saw touching me tonight? Travis. Cody. Your brother. I didn’t see you do anything then.”
My jaw works. “That’s different. They’re good guys. If you wanted to . . .” I shake my head, unable to even say it. “Dean Cartwright is scum. I’ve known him since we were kids. I wouldn’t be okay with that.”
“Do you think I need your permission?” She laughs without humor. “You are not my father. I can do whatever I want with whomever I want, and I don’t need to explain any of it to you.”
People pass us on the stairwell, suspicious glances thrown our way as we argue in the direct path to the bathroom.
My eyes narrow. “And he’s what you want?”
She throws her hands up. “Oh my God! You’re impossible. You need to go. I’m not your problem to worry about.”
Turning, she heads back up the way we came, but I stop her, pinning her against the wall, the two of us meeting on the same stair. “Yes, the fuck you are.”
She stares right at me, not backing down. “Kai, I am not your problem.”
My attention dips to her lips. “Be my problem.”
Swallowing, she tilts her head, testing me. “Then do something to make me your problem.”
Fuck me. I’m so frustratingly into this woman, so I do just that.
I make her my problem.
There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way my mouth crashes onto hers because there’s nothing soft or sweet about Miller. She aggravates me, pushes me, challenges me.
And according to the way her mouth yields to mine—she wants me.
Cupping her face, she hums as my lips close over hers, like this kiss is the sweetest kind of relief. They’re pillowy soft, just as I imagined, and her tongue. Her fucking tongue. Warm and wet and responsive as it meets mine, pulling a reassured groan from my throat.