I turned my head to the side and found Brock watching me with an odd yet amused expression. He probably assumed I was on the brink of a mental breakdown… and he wouldn’t have been that far off.
“My phone is in Carter’s SUV,” I explained my sudden verbal despair.
“Oh,” he said, then shrugged. “Not a big deal. We’ll get you a new one,” he added as if we were talking about replacing a tube of lip gloss.
“You can’t just buy me a new phone, Brock,” I argued.
“Why not?”
“Well, for one, they cost money, I might add, and I don’t want your money. It’s not your problem. I’ll handle it.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll go to the store tomorrow. I’ll put you on my plan.”
That sounded like a horrible idea, but also ridiculously appealing to not rely on Steven to pay for my cell phone bill or have Angie use it as a punishment. On the flip side, there was something too intimate about sharing a phone plan with Brock. That was what couples did.
And Brock Taylor and I were not a couple.
“I’ll get it back. Don’t worry about it.” I brushed off his offer.
“Like hell. You’re not going anywhere near Carter’s SUV,” he said, roughly and firmly.
Anger rose in me. Brock should have known better than to boss me around. I despised being told what to do and like all my emotions tonight, my temper came on swift and strong. “I appreciate the concern, but you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
His eyes became chips of ice. “I think I earned that right for saving your ass tonight.”
A short snort loosed through my nostrils as I dropped the ice pack onto the table. “You’re unbelievable. Thanks for the first aid and the shots, but I’m leaving.” I stood too fast, but ignored the spinning room and sloppily stormed across the kitchen.
He grabbed my elbow before I made it three steps toward the archway and whirled me around to face him. My palms hit his chest, and my gaze slammed into his chin as I tried to steady myself. “Like hell, Firefly. I said you’re not going home.”
Lifting my eyes, I jerked my arm out of his hold. Or tried to. He wasn’t letting me go far. Releasing my arm, his fingers moved to my waist, keeping me from putting the distance I sought between us. I leaned into him, needing the support as my eyes cleared. “I have friends, you know. Or I’ll just go to my dad’s,” I countered. “Your house is not my only option.”
Brock stepped closer, our chests brushing. “Not tonight.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, if that’s what you think this is.” The words flew from my mouth.
His fingers tightened at my hips, a look of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “For fuck sake, Josie. What kind of guy do you take me for? I’m not interested in seducing you tonight. Not when you’re still shaken up over what happened. Give me a little credit. I’m not always an asshole.”
“Just ninety-nine percent of the time.”
His lips grew into a slow grin. “Exactly. Come on. I’m putting you to bed, where you’ll stay.” His hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me out of the kitchen and into a dimly lit hallway.
And I let him, too fucking tired to put up much of a fight. “What about Mads?” I asked, glancing sidelong at him.
Dark brows drew together in confusion. “What about her?”
My eyes rolled. “I need to let her know I’m okay.”
He blinked. “I’ll have one of the guys get in touch with her. Satisfied?”
I nodded and asked, “Any chance I could take a shower first?”
He gave me a long stare, one that brimmed with too much heat at the mention of me naked in his shower, which had not been my intention. He blinked, and understanding crossed his features. “Take as long as you need.”
I didn’t say anything as he led me upstairs to his bedroom, but I wanted to. From what I’d heard about Brock, he didn’t let girls sleep in his room, yet he broke that rule with me and looked to do so again. I wanted to know why. Was it because he still had use for me? Because I was a pawn for him to maneuver in this game of chess he was playing with Carter?
Again, too damn tired to dissect his reasons for letting me stay in his room, I just walked inside with him. Leaving me in the center of the room, he opened a drawer and pulled out a plain black shirt. “You can sleep in this.”
“Thanks,” I replied, grateful. Dying to get out of my clothes, I wanted no reminder of Carter when I went to bed. My favorite pair of jeans was forever ruined now—tainted. Another thing to curse Carter for.