Camille Story was still interested in Matt, if I had to go by the amount of information she had on him.

I hadn’t told Kash I did that—or anyone. I wasn’t sure if I should, but glancing around, taking note of the attention we were drawing, I figured I should. Everything came around. I believed in that. So yes, I had to tell him.

He was leading us toward the same back VIP section that I’d sat at with Matt before, and like that night, Matt was at the same booth. He didn’t have a girl on his lap, but he was sitting in the back, his arms spread out over the top of the booth beside him, and two girls were pressed to either side of him. One was toying with his shirt. The other’s arm was under the table, toying with something else.

Matt’s gaze was trained on us, and he wasn’t happy. His top lip sneered up. Nope. So not happy.

I slowed, but Kash tightened his hold and kept going. Judging from the locked jaw on his face, he wasn’t happy either.

I was starting to recognize some of Matt’s friends. Chester was there, nuzzling into a girl’s neck, but not the other guy, who had been talking to Matt, or so I assumed, because he had an arm up behind the girl next to him. She was toying with his shirt, but he turned to watch us come in, too. There was light curiosity from him. Anger from Matt. And fear mixed with caution in Chester’s face, when he sensed something was happening and lifted his head from the girl’s neck.

The four girls didn’t look over. They didn’t even seem to know that other people were there. They kept doing what they’d been doing: flirting, teasing, and rubbing, judging by the girl whose hand didn’t move from Matt’s lap.

Once we were within earshot, Matt drawled, his eyes sparking, “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to have a chat with me.” His eyes were mean. “You’re usually on top of me, Kash. You’re slipping. It’s been a good two days since you beat the shit out of me.”

His bruises were still there, but fading.

I winced, seeing them.

Chester and the other guy were enjoying this. Both seemed eager, and they leaned forward, resting their arms on the table.

Matt didn’t move. Not an inch.

His eyes switched to mine. The ugly glint was there, but as I met his gaze and raised my chin, it faded. A glimmer of regret flashed briefly, but then it was gone. And with it, some of the fight lessened too. His shoulders went up and down, smoothly, and he broke free, leaning forward to match his friends’ positions.

“And you … I am actually sorry.” He grimaced. “Again. And again. And again.” All the fight was gone. His shoulders slumped down. He mouthed a swear word, then motioned to the girls. “Leave. Go.”

They didn’t move quick enough, so he growled, “Get lost! Now.”

Chester scowled. “What the fuck?” But he slid out, letting the girls out. His, too. The other one looked up at the third guy, and he nodded to her, dipping his head in the direction of the bar. She stood up and he smacked her on the ass, then cupped it. “I’ll come find you. Don’t go far.”

Her eyes danced, and a seductive tilt formed on her mouth. “You know it.”

As soon as the girls were gone, Kash lifted an eyebrow. He was glaring at Matt.

Matt sighed, rolled his eyes. “Nuts. Dick. You guys, too.”

“What?”

“Dude.”

Matt waved them off. “This is a family thing.”

Both stood, glaring.

Dick’s glare was less, and he hotfooted it after his girl. Chester stood, moving into Kash’s space, but one turn of Kash’s head and the guy scrambled out of the way.

The corner of Matt’s mouth tugged. “The guys are all chickenshits. Scared of you.” He nodded to Kash, who stepped back, motioned for me to slide in on Dick’s side, and got in behind me. He could scope out the club, but his body was angled toward us. A passerby would think he was focused only on talking to us, not on watching them. The maneuver was so innate and smooth that I wasn’t sure he was even aware of it.

Then all got quiet.

Matt was glancing between the two of us, a slight frown marring his forehead. “Should I be the protective bro—”

“Shut up.” But there was no heat in Kash’s words, and Matt’s grin only deepened. “What were you thinking? Boning Amanda Bonham? She’s married.”

Matt shrugged. “Doesn’t act married in bed.”

“Her sleeping with you doesn’t change the fact who her husband is. He can make life difficult for your father.”

Matt guffawed. “Right. Dad can roll over him in two seconds. You know it. You can roll over him in less.” He skimmed me, nodding in my direction. “Bailey could probably take him down with an afternoon behind the keyboard. He’s a weasel shit. He’s nothing to me.”