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Tough Love

Page 77

Not in the cards. Not for someone like him.

His future had been molded a long time ago, and rather than fight it, he’d just rolled with the punches. And the kicks.

And the devastation.

Fuck ’em all. What had been stolen from him, he didn’t need. Or so he told himself. Often. Until recently he’d made it so, and he’d been happy with his life.

Okay, maybe “happy” was a stretch, but he’d been content. He’d made it work. He lived by his own rules and ignored the restrictions.

Until the SBC had insisted on signing him on, meaning more exposure...to everyone.

His past would get dredged up in a big way. Cannon claimed it was time. He knew Cannon would stand beside him. All the guys would. But needing them for this, for anything, made him feel pathetic, and he’d done his utmost to leave that shit behind.

When a sudden burst of laughter came from the showers, Armie realized he hadn’t been listening to the ladies after all. He’d gotten lost in thought, and damn it, he’d missed the joke.

“You changed your hair.”

Startled by the husky timbre of that familiar voice, he slowly turned his head. Backlit by the fluorescent lights of the main room, Merissa Colter stood there in the long hallway. Silky ebony hair trailed over her shoulders all the way to her tiny waist. His attention went to her cleavage. She usually wore crew neck tops, but now, tonight, her sweater dipped low enough to make his mouth go dry.

“Yeah.” Who knew a small change with his hair would get so much attention?

“Why?”

He shrugged. Just because he felt like he had to control something, even something as dumb as his outward appearance...no reason to share that with her.

He focused on her cleavage instead of his warped issues. Her tan top fell to mid hip, leading his gaze to her endlessly long legs hugged in skinny jeans that showed off every subtle curve. His nostrils flared with a breath.

Her height almost equaled her brother’s, so she seldom wore heels. But her boots tonight lifted her an inch, maybe two, meaning their mouths would be perfectly aligned...

“Armie?” She shifted, arms crossing under her breasts and one hip jutting out. “You’re making me feel naked.”

Shit. “Don’t put ideas in my head, Stretch.” He had enough of them in there already—and they always made him feel guilty. Pushing off the wall, he took one step toward her. “So, what’s up?”

She and Cannon shared the same light blue eyes, but on Cannon they were just there. On Merissa... Jesus. The impact of those eyes staring into his made his balls tighten.

“For one second,” she said, “you managed to treat me like other women. Should have known it wouldn’t last.” She brushed past him, put her back to the wall, and slid down to her curvy little ass.

Confused by her presence but craving it all the same, Armie stood over her; it was safer than joining her on the floor. “You know me. Why in God’s name would you want me to treat you the way I treat other women?”

From the showers, Vanity yelled, “I like how you treat me.”

Rolling his eyes, Armie yelled back, “Concentrate on your shower, Vee.”

A giggle, and then Cherry added, “That overhearing thing goes both ways, just so you know.”

Merissa put her face in her hands.

“Busybodies!” Taking the wall across from her, Armie joined her on the floor. She looked so bleak, he stretched out his legs, letting his feet go on either side of hers. Keeping his voice lower, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

She dropped her hands and, looking mean, narrowed her gaze at him. “Not a thing. I’m here to babysit you. Again.”

“The night of the wedding was bullshit. I was fine and everyone knows it.” Mostly fine, anyway. “You sent me home in a cab?”

Her thick lashes half lowered. “No. I drove you and your truck home, then I called a cab for me.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I saw your message on my window.”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember any of it.”

Nudging her foot with his, he said, “I didn’t do anything to offend you, did I?”

“You mostly ignored me.”

Well...good. “So, what’s the reason you’re here now?”

“Apparently the men don’t trust the nefarious Armie Jacobson near their girlfriends.”

“Then that’s bullshit, too. They trust me. They just know their own minds would be rolling ’round in the gutter, and they figure you’d be a distraction to keep mine from doing the same.”

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