I hate being interrupted.
Not when Iâm talking.
Not during practice.
And sure as freaking hell not when Iâm about to plunder Cadence Cooper to within an inch of her life.
Any other girl made me hot like that just to break it off, I wouldnât have batted an eye before I sent them packing and ignored them cold.
But Cadence?
One jerk of my chain and Iâve got no choice but to come running.
This girl has me wrapped around her pinkie finger and Iâm storming into her crappy apartment in this crappy side of town, the sun beating down on me and making me sweat while my rock-hard body protests every freaking step.
Damn.
This is torture.
I should be plastering her to a wall and delving inside her like a maniac.
I step into the apartment, passing the table where I made myself a sandwich and waited for Cadence to arrive that night. She stumbles right past it, heading for her bedroom.
One look at that bed and itâs over. My mind thickens with more memories of holding her. Biting down on her ear. Plunging into her mouth. Taking her hard and fast.
But at this point, not even a cold shower will do much.
âYou need me here for this part?â I ask.
âWhat?â Cadence says as if half her brain is already beyond this moment.
âGood,â I mumble. Hurrying to the bathroom, I adjust myself and dunk my head under their tiny faucet. Itâs not much, but itâll have to do for now.
I canât be screwed up in the head. If Cadey needs me to fight, I need my brain firing on all cylinders.
Once I feel like Iâm in control again, I glance around the bathroom. Small towels are folded neatly. The shower curtain is pushed back and I force myself not to imagine Cadey getting undressed and stepping under the water.
Everything is small and rusted, but itâs clean.
I sniff. Strange. The faint smell of weed is in the air.
It sure as hell isnât Cadeyâs. Sheâs wound up so tight that I could pluck her like a guitar string and sheâd ring a note.
Is it Viola? Was drugs what caused the fight the other night?
That doesnât seem likely either. Violaâs smart, much smarter than even her sister gives her credit for. I can totally see her turning that makeup channel into the real deal, getting sponsors, and making an empire for herself. She isnât as fragile as she looks.
Her sister either.
I open the door, curious but clearing every single shred of emotion from my face.
A rustling sound is coming from Cadenceâs bedroom. I head there and find her on her knees, letting out a shocked cry as she stares intently at something in a duffel bag. My eyes drift to the bag too and I stop short.
A stack of bills fill the case.
Cadenceâs brown eyes slide from the bag to me and back. âHow much was that ring?â
âAbout twenty grand.â It was my grandmotherâs. Vintage. I didnât want to see it on anyone elseâs fingers but hers.
Cadence makes that helpless cry again. Her bottom lip trembles. âWhy would you give such a valuable piece of jewelry to me?â
âBecause I wanted you to have it.â My tone is matter-of-fact.
The stare she levels me would have made me wince if I were a smaller guy.
I blink as if none of it freaking matters.
Probably the wrong move.
Curses sputtering past her pretty lips, she thrusts to her feet and storms past me. I stop her by slamming my hand against the door.
She jerks to a stop and tips her chin up, meeting my eyes with a challenging stare.
âIâm not upset, Cadey. If you needed the cashââ
âI punch you,â she snaps.
My lips quirk up, but I donât laugh. Instead, I rub her shoulders. âWho took the ring, Cadey? And why does it make you so upset?â
âItâsâ¦â She sighs. âItâs really complicated.â
âLet me un-complicate it. Iâm good at that.â I keep touching her and I notice the tension in her shoulders start to fade.
She closes her eyes. âActually, my momââ
My phone rings.
Cadence stiffens and steps back.
I check the caller.
Finn.
Damn.
âI need toâ¦â I gesture to the phone.
She turns away from me.
Irritated, I slap the phone to my ear. âThis better be good, Finn.â
âYou think I would have called you to discuss the freaking weather?â
I cringe. Thatâs not good. Finn sounds like heâs at the edge of his patience. My stoic brother rarely loses his cool.
âWhatâs going on?â I ask urgently.
âZane just called me. Dadâs home. Heâs saying heâs moving in.â Finn pauses. âAnd he invited Miss Jamieson to move in with him and her mother.â
We got Zane to recover from that bomb dad dropped on our heads at the restaurant. Itâs one thing to see the woman he loves but canât have waltzing around at school. Itâs another freaking thing entirely to have her in the same house, using our showers, prancing around in a nightgown in the kitchen.
Hell, I donât even live with Cadence and I already find it hard to keep my hands off her.
âDadâs going to discuss it tonight over dinner. Heâs already there with Marion.â
I pinch the bridge of my nose. âAlright. Alright, dad wants to make this uncomfortable? We play the same game. Iâm calling mom.â
âWill it make a difference?â
âSheâs better at controlling him than we are.â
Finn goes quiet. âWhy is dad going so hard on Zane?â
I think about our exchange in the classroom and wince. âI told him to come at us.â
âSo he made another cheap shot,â Finn hisses.
âHe canât go too far. We know too much of what heâs done.â I hear someone shuffling toward me and turn around. Cadence is approaching the living room, the bag of money on her shoulder and a frown on her lips. âIâll be there soon, Finn.â
âHurry. Iâll meet you at the house.â
I hang up. âI have to go.â
âHere.â She sticks the bag out at me.
âWhy are you giving this to me?â
âSome of the money is still there. Iâll find a way to pay you back for the rest.â
âYou donât have toââ
âTake it.â She shoves the bag harder.
My phone buzzes again.
Zane.
Heâs probably going to tell me the same thing Finn did.
The urge to help my brothers is strong, but I donât feel right about leaving Cadence alone.
Wrapping my fingers around her wrist, I push her arm into her stomach so she canât force the bag on me. Voice low and stern, I tell her, âCall your friend over. The little blonde one.â
âBreeze?â
I nod.
âI was planning on doing that anyway,â she grumbles. And then she tries to push the bag at me. âDutch, take it.â
I step back and keep walking away. âIâm not going to ask you to tell me who pawned the ring. And Iâm not going to ask you to admit you have feelings for me either.â I stop at the door. âThe only thing Iâm going to demand is that you call me if youâre in danger.â
âIâm not in danger.â
âCall me if you want to fight then.â
âYouâre not funny.â
âIf anything happens, you pick up your phone and you dial my number.â
âDutchâ¦â
â
me.â I open the door and memorize her face for a second before I let it slam behind me.