5
ANTONIO
She told me where she lived. No way I could stay away.
Unfortunately, neither could he.
Jealousy, n***d and cruel, gnawed at my thoughts, filling my mind with visions of kicking his a*s and punishing hers. But not before I asked myself, what kind of man wears too tight western jeans to work in the first place, and lets them ride above his pull-on, short cowboy boots?
Not good for the optic.
Worse yet, the troglodyte braced his palms against her front door, one on either side of her head, and leaned down to kiss her. She shoved at his chest, her voice raising when she asked, “What are you doing?”
My blood boiled and the foulness of loathing came off of me in waves.
“Get your f*****g hands off her. Now.”
“Dude, you’re out of line. This is between us,” he said.
“There’s no
