“Josie,” he prompted, his voice low. He wanted a straight answer.
I sighed. “My mom prefers to use her words than her fists. She only hit me once. And honestly, if she tries to slap me again, I’ll probably hit her back.”
The color of his eyes morphed into a dozen shades of green. “If you ever need to get away, call me. This has nothing to do with Brock or the Elite. Got it?”
My lips curved. We were having a moment, and it was nice, even if it didn’t last. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
My afternoon with Fynn turned out not to be a complete waste and surprisingly fun. Stuffed on pizza, liquor, and painkillers, the mention of my mother made me realize how much I wasn’t looking forward to going home. Especially since Carter would be there. He’d been released from the hospital today.
But my time had run out.
It was just around six o’clock when Brock darkened the doorway. “It’s time to go, Firefly,” he said, his tumultuous blue eyes pinned to mine.
Chapter Seventeen
Itook in the impressive sight of him and told myself that my heart wasn’t beating faster. So what if he was hotter than most guys? He also had a bad attitude and an unchecked ego. Did I really need that in my life?
He bit his lower lip, his eyes never straying from mine, and the answer was clear.
Hell yes!
Ugh. It was hopeless.
What was the point in pretending I didn’t have a thing for this guy? I was just fooling myself. From the moment I saw him at the wedding, I wanted him, and that want hadn’t dulled in the slightest. If anything, knowing who he was only made me want him more.
Fucked-up.
“Where is your posse?” I asked, breaking the tension mounting between us.
Brock leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, damp, dark hair falling messily to one side, as if he’d recently showered. “I sent them home after practice.”
Fynn turned on the couch, resting his arm over the back of it. “You want backup?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I can handle this.”
I didn’t understand the exchange between them. Handle what? Me? How absurd. “What’s going on?”
Fynn and Brock shared a look, but Brock responded, “Nothing. I’m taking you home.”
I wasn’t so easily brushed off. “Okay. It doesn’t feel like nothing.” And what was the point of all of this?
“How’s the ankle?” Brock asked, his gaze shifting to my foot as I glared at him.
“Gah. You are so frustrating.”
He shoved off the doorframe and stalked toward me. “You just attract trouble, don’t you?”
“Only since I met you,” I mumbled, carefully swinging my legs over the side of the chair.
“Somehow I don’t believe you.”
I stood up on my own, but it only took the slightest pressure on my ankle and I was wincing. Brock swore under his breath. Unlike Fynn or Grayson, Brock didn’t give me an option, instead just swept me into his arms.
“As independent as you are, I don’t have all night. And knowing you, you’ll wind up injuring yourself further,” he scolded as he moved toward the door.
“Whatever,” I grumbled, trying to figure out where I should look. Being in his arms made it so our faces were close. Too close. I glanced over Brock’s shoulder at Fynn, who just smirked at me. Nothing was preventing me this time from flipping him off, so I did. My fingers still worked just fine, but I softened it with a smile of thanks.
Brock had us through the house and in his car in less than a minute. I didn’t see what the rush was. Perhaps he had somewhere else to be.