Hat Trick (D.C. Stars, #4)

by Chelsea Curto

I wish I had the balls of a mediocre white man who thinks he’s hot shit. I’d be unstoppable.

“She wasn’t finished speaking,” Riley says, deathly low. The look in his eye is murderous. A shiver races up my spine when he curls his fingers into a fist. My cheeks turn bright red when he stares at my boss and tilts his head to the side. “And her name is Lexi. L-e-x-i. That’s not difficult, is it? Treat her with respect and get it right, or I’m leaving.”

The romance books I read are right: having a guy turn a little unhinged and defend your honor is sexy as hell.

You can do it. For her, I’m going to try my damn best.

Her soft smile turns into a grin, and I swear I can feel it behind my ribs. It makes the whole space around us warmer and brighter, and I’m a sad, sad man, because after so many fucking days in the dark, I want to feel like that again.

“Of course I was fucking jealous. He had your attention. And I’m fucking desperate for it.”

I watch her go, a single thought echoing in my brain. Funny how all my good days include her.

“Please. You’re not a rule breaker.” “I could be.” The grin he flashes me is mischievous, bold. “For you.”