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This was so far outside my normal behavior.

“But yeah, darlin’,” he said, his voice as smooth and warm as honey, the Texan gentlemen really coming out. “We can do whatever you want.”

I had to focus to keep from melting into a puddle at his feet.

This is fake. This is fake. This is fake.

The mantra didn’t do shit when he shot me a smile that was borderline boyish, like he meant what he was saying. That he wanted to do whatever I wanted. I stood, needing to cut the connection before I did something rash like kiss the stupidly handsome face of a man I didn’t know.

“I hope you find your contacts and a better attitude,” I said, hitting his ex’s arm with my shoulder as I pushed past her, pulling him behind me.

FIVE

DALTON

GIRL CODE ONLY COUNTS IF YOU’RE NOT A CUNT

She led us toward the main dining area, which was being used as a makeshift dancefloor tonight. For such a small woman, she carried herself with authority and had zero trouble dragging me around.

“What happened to Girl Code?” I whispered in her ear, needing to cut the distance between us. I’d itched to get close to her again since she slid off my lap—to smell her warm coconut scent wafting from her skin.

“There’s a very clear clause that states you forfeit your right to Girl Code if you’re a cunt. And your ex is a cunt. Shit.” She turned so suddenly I nearly ran her over. I grabbed at her hips, using them to steady her while her hands found my forearms.

My fingertips once again found that smooth strip of skin. I choked back a groan, my mind creating inappropriate thoughts of how it would feel to grip her there while doing things that were not appropriate in public.

“Sorry,” we said in unison, still holding on to one another.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” I asked.

“Well, calling someone’s ex a cunt isn’t exactly good manners.” The smirk on her face said she wasn’t too torn up about it.

“Ma’am, I’m the one who should be apologizing. Emma is…” I tried to think of something to say about my ex that didn’t make me come off as an ass.

I mean, I probably already gave this mystery woman a shit impression.

First, I asked her to pretend to be my date, and then my ex treated her like shit. She handled herself fine, though. More than fine if I were being honest.

I thought back to the fiery look that blazed in her eyes when Emma cut in without a second glance. It wasn’t jealousy over me that caused her reaction; it was my ex’s lack of common decency. Same look the team got when someone hit our goalie in a game. When someone blatantly disregards the agreed-upon etiquette of life.

“A cunt.” She lifted a brow in a challenge, amusement in her tone, then tugged me toward the dance floor before I could form a response. “Come on. No one is going to believe we’re a couple with us standing a mile away. Let’s see if you have any rhythm, güerito.”

My mother’s words echoed in my mind. “Live a little, Dalt. You deserve to do things you like, too.” That subject was a sore spot between us for the last few years. I wasn’t sure my mom meant this when she told me to live a little. On second thought, with that woman, this was probably exactly what she meant.

There was no stopping the smile on my face as my fake date dragged me onto the floor, pushing through the crowd with ease. She looped her arms around my neck, and I hesitated, not knowing where to place my own.

“Come on, Longest Ride, don’t tell me you don’t know how to hold a woman on the dance floor,” she taunted, placing my hand on her back before pushing it lower. Low enough that the tip of my pinky grazed her ass, our bodies softly swaying to the music.

Was this a nightmare or a fantasy? Because my restraint was being tested within an inch of its capabilities.

I cleared my throat, running through every bad game I’d ever played, trying to keep my growing hard-on at bay. “Well, I appreciate the assist there…” my words trailed off, giving her an out if she didn’t want to give me her name, but damn, did I want it.

I wanted to know what it felt like rolling off my tongue.

Her brown eyes twinkled under the lights, a look of mischievousness painted on her beautiful face as she chewed on her bottom lip. She had to tell me. I’d beg if I needed to.

What is wrong with you? You just met this woman.

Maybe Jimenez had a point when he told me that my lack of interaction with the female sex was going to cause me to lose my mind because I was seconds away from dropping to my knees.