Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“You’re not flirting with my client,” I cut him off now.
“Is that how it—”
“Yeah, that’s how it is,” I growl. “I don’t know why you’re here or how you know about the fake dating op, but one thing’s certain—you don’t know me and you sure as fucking hell don’t know my type. If you did, you’d realize it’s the girl right next to me.”
Jane presses her fingers to her lips.
My pulse is hammering my eardrums, and the gym—the gym has gone quiet. Bodyguards heard that minor declaration.
My jaw tenses, tendons pulled taut in my neck. I’m not backing down from Tony. I don’t need to unfuck a thing. As long as I act like I didn’t just profess eternal love and devotion to my client —she’s fine.
We’re fine.
Tony motions to me. “You’ve only been with girls over six feet.”
I almost roll my eyes. “That’s Banks. ” My brother has only been in serious relationships with tall girls.
“You’re basically the same person.” He’s serious, and this isn’t the first time I’ve heard that. Not just from him.
You’re the same person.
You share one brain.
And Tony rarely uses his.
“Why would you say that?” Jane questions hotly, like she’s putting him on trial.
Tony motions to me. “He’s an identical twin.”
“Yes, and clearly identical twins are not the same person. They’re two people with two separate thoughts and feelings—”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Tony interjects.
She huffs. “It’s scientific fact—”
“Is it?”
I’m going to kill him. “Don’t cut her off again.” It’s a threat.
He gives me an aggravated look. “You’re not on-duty, Moretti. Your client can defend herself.”
“I quite like a right-hand,” Jane says strongly. “And you’re being positively rude to him.”
“He can defend himself too,” Tony shoots back.
I tell him point-blank, “I like a right-hand just as much as Jane.”
She can’t restrain a smile.
Tony bobs his head a few times, laughing under his breath. “Guess your type of girl must be the ones with your balls in their purse.”
Her nose crinkles, pissed. “Excuse me?”
“No offense to you,” Tony tells her but only looks at me and my caustic glare.
Jane and I are both alphas, and I’m attracted to that part of her. Anyone who thinks I’m less of a man because I’d rather uphold all of who she is, including her dominance—they can go stand on their own dick and spin around in twenty circles.
Their opinion will never fucking matter to me. I value none of the horseshit out of his mouth.
So arguing with him, debating him, doesn’t matter to me. “How do you know about the op?” This is what’s important.
Jane scrutinizes him more. Wondering this too.
He has no clearance for this kind of information.
Unless he’s joining the team.
No.
It’s not…
It is possible. Tony is a bodyguard in LA. He works in private security, but he used to say he’d never “slum” it back in Philly.
“Got a call from your boss last week,” Tony says.
“Which one?”
“Price, the Alpha lead. Apparently your team isn’t up to par with pro-level security services, and he wants someone to pick up the slack. Someone who knows their shit, and that’s where I come in. There’s no one better than me.”
There is.
His name is Farrow Keene, and he’s across the gym. Akara Kitsuwon and Oscar Oliveira are also ten times better than he will ever be.
Hell, I would take every fucking bodyguard on the team over Tony Ramella. I wouldn’t trust him to have my six. I punched Farrow and I still trust that he’ll have my back at the end of the day. Because that’s who he is—but that’s not Tony.
Jane tenses. “You’re a bodyguard?”
I glance down at her. “Tony protects a boy band out in LA.”
“The most popular boy band in the entire country,” Tony amends with outstretched arms. “Worked my ass off, and now I’m a hot commodity.”
It was a big deal among family and friends when Tony Ramella, Banks, and I ended up in the same career field. Gossip, mostly. People comparing and talking about who works for the most famous celebrity.
Like I give a fuck about that.
“Why leave the most popular boy band?” Jane wonders.
“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave LA,” Tony admits. “Philly is a fucking armpit in comparison. But Price sounded desperate, and I like to think of this as my civil service.”
I hate how he’s talking about this team like he’s doing charity work by being here. We’re not fucked enough to where we’d ever need Tony. “The 24/7 roster is full,” I tell him.
It’s what I know. There are only openings for temp guards.
Tony grins and rocks forward on the balls of his feet. “Not true. I just signed-on for a full-time position, Moretti.” He lowers his voice. “My training course starts tomorrow, but it’s just for show. The Tri-Force doesn’t want the other guys to think I’m getting special treatment.”