Page 9 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

She crosses her arms over her chest, always a clear sign she’s annoyed. There’s a near-permanent pout on her mouth. “Why don’t you like it when I go out?”

I hate all their eyes on you.I shrug. “Just more work for me. More exits. More potential enemies.”

“It’s been three weeks and nothing’s happened.”

I look at her pointedly before looking back at the road. We’re nearly home. “That doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

“All you’ll have to do is come dancing with me. It won’t kill you.”

My hands tighten further on the steering wheel, the leather making a squeaky sound.

I hate it when she goes dancing. There’s always a hand on her hip or at her waist. Some guy behind her, too close. It makes my hands ache to take off someone’s head.

I’m already in a fucking mood by the time we arrive at Steve’s Place, some shitty dive bar on the south side of town. She walks in ahead of me, while I’m still scanning the crowd for anyone who looks familiar. I curse and hurry to follow her, making long strides to catch up. A guy wraps his arms around her neck and I glare at him.

Oh, great.Reese.I can’t fucking stand Reese. He’s always all over her, pretending to be herfriend. As if he doesn’t have designs on her.

He glances at me, his dark eyes widening in surprise as I don’t look away. “Your guard dog is staring me down,” he tells her in a too-loud whisper. He’s already drunk.

“He’s harmless.”

I snort out a laugh that gets swallowed up by the booming music. She’s about the only person on the fucking planet who’s ever called meharmless.

Soon enough, I have a drink in my hand and she’s doing shots with Reese and Sofia. Both of them, bad influences. They’re always trying to encourage her to go on what they call “side quests” and slip away from me. She gets pissed off every time when I draw her back towards the car.

I watch her hips sway, let my eyes travel over her body. She’s not looking at me, her eyes closed as she moves to the beat. It’s like she feels the music booming up from the soles of her feet, how smoothly she moves.

Might as well be a fucking mating dance, for what it’s doing to me.

Reese slips up behind her, one hand on her hip before he spins her around, grinning at her. My hand tightens on my glass. She laughs, throwing her head back and putting her hands on his chest, and the glass cracks straight through. Brown liquor leaks all over my hand and I curse.

By the time I get myself cleaned up, Reese and Samantha are gone. Panic rises in my throat. I let myself get distracted. Just for an instant.

When I walk outside, the scent of weed hits me like a cloud and I roll my eyes, following the smell to find Samantha and Reese, coughing. Reese holds up the lit joint to me. “Want some?”

Samantha bursts out laughing and I roll my eyes, take the joint, and stamp it out. “Buzzkill,” Samantha says, swaying toward me and pouting.

“Okay. It’s time to go home.”

Reese opens his mouth as if to protest and I stare him down. He shuts his mouth.

I turn my eyes to Samantha. Her amber brown eyes are glassy but they focus on me, at least. She looks at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her gaze.

“Alright, alright. This place is about to close, anyway.” She links her arm through mine. “Take me home, guard dog.”

Reese laughs. I want to growl at him, but instead I just focus on her touching my arm, how it makes my heart gallop in my chest.

Fuck.I hate it when she’s crossfaded. She’s extra flirty, extra affectionate, and I can barely fucking handle it.

At least she agreed to leave.

I open the passenger side door for her and she slides in, watching me. I reach across her, buckling her seatbelt for her, and wish I didn’t. She smells like roses and the musk of sweat and all my wildest dreams.

I buckle it quickly, swallowing, and get the hell out of there. I take in a few deep breaths as I shut the door and walk slowly to get in. Samantha rests her hand on my thigh. I stiffen but just back out, trying not to react. I’m gritting my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

She hums, leaning back against the seat.

“Did you have fun?”