by Quinn, Cari
I pulled back and dropped my hand away. “You really want to go there, pal?”
Twenty-Five
Hunter
Fuck.
Everything that came out of my mouth was wrong. I knew it even as it was flying off my tongue like I didn’t fucking own it.
I knew Kenny was a step away from bolting with her cop—no, not her cop. At least it better not be her cop. The guy was giving me the goddamn stinkeye, and there was another group of people cataloging every single word and gesture.
And the night had started off so well.
Jamming to great songs.
Fans that actually gave two shits about our music and not a crotch shot—at least not more than any usual female fan that had their sights set on me, or my fellow bandmates. That part I could handle.
Hell, I had no problem using what the good Lord gave me. I’d been born for the stage. It was the only place I felt at home.
Besides in Kenny’s arms.
And that was exactly why I was ready to rip the building apart.
Everything was going so well. Then there’d been a murmur in the crowd. I’d watched from the stage, even missed a cue from Owen for the next verse because I’d spotted her.
Vic.
She tried to play it off that she wasn’t there to cause trouble. But she brought in her entourage from her television show. The trio of women who lived only to be mentioned at the best and most exclusive parties. The fact that they’d disappeared as soon as they figured out there wasn’t enough media exposure here was enough to prove there was a master plan at work.
There always was.
What I couldn’t figure out was why she was still here. And why Bats was hanging out with her and constantly standing up for her. For fuck’s sake, he’d been the first to urge me to get rid of her.
Now he was in her corner?
Lately, he was always sneaking off without telling anyone. When I called him on any of it, we ended up at each other’s throats.
I didn’t want to think he was stupid enough to get pulled in by her, but Bats didn’t exactly have the best track record with picking women. And what exactly could I say on the subject? She’d snowed me for two years.
I glanced over Kenny’s shoulder and my fists tightened. Vic was curled against him like my goddamn guitarist was the only shelter in some crazy contrived storm. What the hell did she have to cry about?
Kenny moved over a step and tilted her head. “Really?”
“Can you believe this?”
“No, I can’t.” One brow arched high enough that I got a bad feeling. The kind that ended with a fight. I didn’t need that on top of this mess.
I focused on her. “What? I’m protecting one of my best friends.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t.”
She moved around me and I grabbed her hand. She twisted out of my hold and crossed the room. I caught her trajectory and growled before following.
Remy.
The blond cop was gone, and the hipster-douche manager was MIA. Remy was talking to Wyatt, an easy smile on his face, hands animated.
She walked right into his arms and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Looks like I owe you this time.”
Remy pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You know I’m going to collect.”
Yeah, I was going to have to kick some more ass tonight. Maybe I was going to end up in a holding cell for a second time this week after all.
She stepped back. “So, what will it be this time?”
“Lasagna.”
She laughed. The sound was delighted and free. Nothing like I usually got. Her smile was even brighter.
What in the fuck?
“The one thing I can cook. Okay, you got it.”
“I should expect that this weekend?” he asked with waggling brows.
I stepped up behind Kenny, my hand at her hip. She shied away toward Wyatt. “Care to tell me what happened?”
I stayed where I was, hoping that the searing anger building inside me didn’t actually cause vital organs to explode from my chest. “You could ask me.”
Her amber eyes flashed. “I’m asking Wyatt. Impartial witness.”
Wyatt was my best friend. What part of impartial did she think she was going to find?
“Vic walked in, stole all the attention, and Hunter threw a tantrum.”
“What?” I pushed his shoulder until he faced me.
Wyatt’s face was stony. “Am I lying?”
“Yes.”
“I was right there in the back—you know, with the perfect view—and you threw the first punch.”
I growled. That was technically true, but there had been no surprise on Bats’s face when he spotted Vic. I couldn’t fathom the stupidity of him getting involved with her. Then seeing her big doe eyes on him, I’d snapped.
Not only was she an opportunist, but she was a cheating, lying bitch. She’d use him until there was nothing left, then leave him in ashes.
Just like she’d done with me.
He didn’t deserve that. No one did, least of all one of my best friends. And for fuck’s sake, bro code, man.
“Because he deserved it. He deserves an absolute beating. One that you would normally hand out with me.” I cleared my throat and glanced at Remy. “Hypothetically.”
Remy tucked his thumb into his belt. “I’d beat his ass.”
“Right? Thank you.”
“Do not encourage him,” Kenny muttered.
Remy shrugged. “I clocked out twenty minutes ago. I’m just here for the entertainment at this point.”
Kenny let out a disgusted sigh.
Wyatt’s stony face finally broke. “Look man, I know. It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but you’re going after him with no information.”
I frowned. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“No.”
“Then what the fuck?”
“I give my friends the benefit of the doubt. Same as I would with you. Bats isn’t the kind of guy to poach, even an ex. He’s a crazy motherfucker, but he’s never been disloyal.” He tapped his temple. “If you’d just think for one goddamn minute, you’d know. Jesus, Vic makes you absolutely insane.”
I clamped my hand on the back of Wyatt’s neck and steered his gaze to the pair in the corner. Vic’s face was buried in Bats’s chest. “I’m supposed to be cool with that?”
He knocked my hand away. “Why do you care so much?” he shot back.
“Excellent question,” Kennedy said softly. She nodded toward the front door. “I need to go talk to Indie.”
I hooked my finger around her pinkie. “Kenny…”
She shook me off. “Not now, Hunter.”
I tipped my head back. “And I was having such a nice Monday.”
“Dude, Mondays always suck.” Remy moved his hand to his baton. “I should probably take this out and beat you with it.”
I took a step back. “Why?”
“Because you’re railing about that princess over there, when you have a slice of perfect perfection right there.”
“This isn’t about Kenny.”
“Coulda fooled me. Seems like everything out of your mouth right now sounds like a jealous asshole.”
Was he on drugs? “No. It’s about protecting my friend.”
“Impartial witness here? Not what it looks like to me. And if that woman gave me even a hint of a green light, I’d be all over her, but evidently she’s interested in you for whatever reason.”
I clenched my fists.
“I wouldn’t,” Remy said with a big shit-eating grin. “Actually, I should tell you to take a swing. One, I can arrest you, and two, Ken would be pissed as hell and very accommodating to me in all ways.”
I took a step forward and Wyatt slapped his arm across the front of my chest. “He’s proving a point, and you are pulling every asshole card in the deck tonight.”
Jealousy was a new emotion for me. Even with all the bullshit that Vic pulled, I’d
never been envious of any man she had to work with or speak to. Kenny even breathed on the cop and I was ready to get in a fight like a hothead.
I’d gotten all that drama shit out of my system in my early twenties.
Why the hell was it my default setting right now?
Remy grinned. “I’m not gonna deny that I had a thing for Kennedy. Any man with a pulse is going to look at her with more than coffee and conversation on his mind. She doesn’t look at me that way. I got over it. Simple as that.”
My shoulders relaxed.
“It was fun to get you riled up though.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I wasn’t worried.”
Remy snorted, glanced at Wyatt and grinned again. “Yeah, all right.”
Wyatt nodded. “Asshole card.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Remy punched my shoulder. “I’m heading out. Think you two can behave yourselves? I can only pull one favor a week, even for Ken.”
I had to resist the urge to fist my hands under my arms. She gave me such shit for calling her Kenny and this guy got to call her Ken? What the hell?
“We’ll be fine.”
“Good. Now, for the real reason I’m still standing here. As entertaining as you guys are, the only thing I care about is that woman. Hang on.”
I clenched my jaw, but resisted the urge to swing.
“We met when I was moonlighting as security for one of her clients. But here’s the thing. She’s good people. I don’t care what kind of cloud of sex you both are wearing. That’s your business.”
“Damn right it is.”
Remy’s face went blank. “But when the haze clears, just remember—if you hurt her, there isn’t a hole deep enough for you to hide in. I’ll kill you.”
Wyatt and I both went still.
Remy laughed and slapped my arm again. “Just kidding. I’ll just put a bogus warrant out on your ass.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“Man, you gotta relax. I’m only kidding. So serious in here.” He saluted us both. “Take care and stay out of trouble.”
“Did you have the feeling that maybe he wasn’t kidding?” I asked Wyatt.
“I’m fairly certain you’d end up handcuffed under the Santa Monica pier during high tide.”
I gave him a side-eye. “That’s specific.”
“Maybe a little.”
My attention zeroed in on Indie headed our way. “Oh, here we go.”
“Shit,” Wyatt said under his breath.
“One night. Can I just have one night’s peace?”
I winced. “Sorry, Indie, but—”
“No. I don’t need to hear it. You work it out with Reed. Pronto. I don’t want to know how it happens. I don’t care if it’s bare knuckles in the gym, just make sure there aren’t any more goddamn cameras involved!”
“Right.” I looked over my shoulder, but thankfully, the fans who had been hanging around after the show had been herded out sometime between my conversation with Kenny and my threat via Remy.
The cop was smart. No witnesses.
Indie pointed at Wyatt. “And you put a leash on this one.”
“I’m not his mother.”
Indie put her hands on her hips, her straw hat tipped back as she looked up at him. “Guess what? Neither am I.”
“I don’t need another mother.”
“Good. Oh, and you need to call yours. Because she caught this latest stunt on Entertainment Tonight.” She patted my chest. “Nice job.”
“Ah, fuck.” I dug out my phone. It was on silent, but sure enough there were three voicemails waiting for me. Each one labeled mom.
“Can someone help me?” Keys shouted.
Wyatt sighed as Keys righted two of his high hats. He headed to the stage, then turned around, walking backwards. “You owe me a new kick drum, asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. Put it on my account at Smith’s.”
“Don’t think I won’t.”
“Oh, I know you will, you cheap motherfucker.” I started to follow him when I noticed Bats was gone, as well as Vic—and so was Kenny. “Dammit.”
“Where are you going?” Indie called after me.
“I gotta catch Kenny.”
“She’s gone.”
I stopped. “What do you mean gone?”
“I mean vamoose. Remy walked her to her car.”
“I bet he did,” I muttered. I headed for the exit again.
“There’s a mess here that you caused!” Indie shouted.
I stopped at the door and turned back, then met Wyatt’s gaze. He interpreted my wordless question and shook his head. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, just go.”
No way was I sticking around to see if he changed his mind. “Thanks!”
Twenty-Six
Kennedy
I blotted my face at the sink, wiping away the last of my makeup. Sammy was sitting on my vanity bench, his head between his paws.
“Don’t give me that look.”
He gave a great sigh that ended in a little whine.
“I’m home now. I didn’t leave you that long.” I ruffled his ears and gave him a thorough scratch before kissing his forehead. I swapped out my dress for an ancient sweatshirt and pair of boxer shorts.
Sammy followed me out of the bathroom, through my bedroom, living room, and to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and stared. Leftovers, a brick of cheese, and a bottle of wine.
“This sucks.”
Sammy whined again.
I grabbed the cheese and the bottle of Shiraz. Damn Carter for being so efficient. Groceries were beyond his scope, but he always managed to provide the wine.
I brought the bottle to the kitchen island and opened it, then poured it into a huge glass and took a swig. I broke off a hunk of the cheese and flipped a piece to my dog and munched on the other half. I didn’t even bother with a knife.
That was the level that I’d sunk to.
I took another gulp of the wine and wandered into the living room. I curled into the corner of my couch and Sammy jumped up next to me, dropping his head into my lap. “So, are we back to Supernatural on Netflix?”
He looked up at me with his big brown eyes.
“Dean therapy? Or should we go with Damon?”
Sammy barked.
I turned on the television, clicked off the light, and opened Netflix on my smart TV menu. “Yeah, fuck romance. Let’s go for murder.”
Halfway through the “Bloody Mary” episode, the damn doorbell rang. I was scrunched down, pillow up to my chin, second glass of wine flowing through my veins. Sammy leaped off the couch, back fur up as he spazzed out at the door.
Not too many people came to my house unannounced, and I sure as shit wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. “Go away. I don’t want any Girl Scout cookies.”
“Come on, Kenny. Open the door.”
“I especially don’t want any of your cookies.” I turned up the volume. Sammy kept barking and his namesake was blaring out of my surround sound speakers.
“I just want to talk for a second.”
I didn’t answer him. Because I knew that I was weak and would listen to him sweet talk me about the entire situation and then my boxers would fall off because I missed his face. I missed his skin. I missed his heavy arm over me in the deep, dark part of the night.
I had enough wine in me, minus any real food beyond a very small hunk of cheese, thank you very much, that I would definitely do something stupid.
Even though I was hurt way more than I should be about his reaction to another woman. I didn’t have any hold over him. And each of us had a past, but the way he talked about Victoria—the way he reacted about anything having to do with her?
Nope.
It made my stomach hurt. And I didn’t need any of that in my life.
I was doing just fine before he fed me that stupid pasta and lured me in with a sexy dimple. I was a strong, independent woman who didn’t need that kind of drama.
Orgasms were all well
and fine—okay, so they were pretty fabulous, but I’d lived without them before Hunter. I could officially put one-night-stand on my bucket list, too. One and done, the rest was too much trouble.
Sammy whined and laid in front of the door.
Had Hunter left?
I pressed pause and stood up. Hunter slapped his palm against the door then there was another thud. Was that his head?
“Hunter?”
“Still here. What the hell are you watching?”
“None of your business.”
“Can I just talk to you for a second? Then I’ll go if you want.”
I stood in front of the door. “No, I want you to go now. I’m in my pajamas.” I pressed my palm to the cool surface. “I’m tired, and I’ve heard enough excuses for one day. Actually, enough forever.”
He sighed. “I get it. I fucked up. I more than fucked up, but I can’t make it up to you if I have to shout through your door.”
“What, so you can kiss me and distract me?”
“We can talk.”
I pressed my forehead to the door beside my hand. “Yeah, that’s what we do.”
“It’s not just sex, dammit. You know that.”
I swung the door open. “No, I don’t. It’s only been a week, and all we do is have sex or I clean up after a disaster. These are not the building blocks of a good relationship.”
He reached for me, and I stepped back. Sammy yipped and scampered out from under me. I stumbled and Hunter wrapped his arms around me before I could fall on my ass.
“Careful, Kenny.” He pulled me in closer and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry.”
I knew it. Just had to be in the room. I could already feel all my girl parts fluttering and flooding. His fingers skimmed under my sweatshirt and up my back.
He smelled so good and was so warm. And I’d had just enough wine. Did I mention I missed his skin? No one had ever touched me like Hunter. Gentle in ways I didn’t really understand, or know how to react to.
Greed and want always superseded the soft and sweet where he was concerned. I couldn’t just enjoy, I was always racing to feel more.
