A group of guys bursts out of the club, laughing and howling. One of them—the same one who approached Malia earlier—sees her and he jogs to where she's standing. "I thought you'd wait for me, sweet cakes."
Malia pulls her brows down. "I told you I'm not interested."
"Oh, come on. I know you want me." He tries to get too close and she steps back, putting her hands up to stop him. "My boys and I are having an after-party. You should come."
It's not my problem. She's not my problem. Just leave it alone, Gio.
