On The Ropes: Tapped Out Book 3

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On The Ropes: Tapped Out Book 3 Page 33

by Quinn, Cari


  If I wanted anyone for her, and the truth was, I didn’t. I was too busy wanting her myself.

  That JC happened to turn my crank too was incidental and unimportant. I didn’t like the guy. Okay, fine, I didn’t want to like him, because of the Lily thing, and that was pretty much the same.

  But I wanted him. There was no denying that. I’d probably be up for a hate fuck or two if he was into that sort of deal, though he’d never given any indication that he swung both ways. He’d also have to keep his mouth shut, since I kept my predilections on the down-low. Too bad JC never kept his lips closed.

  “So Saturday night,” JC said as I walked into the unfinished room. I hadn’t been invited to join them, and I didn’t really have a purpose there since they’d carried off all his crap. Didn’t stop me, though.

  There was a reason Lance told everyone he never worried about Lily as long as she was with her shadow. I never took offense. It was true. Where Lily was, I followed.

  I owed her father that much and so much more.

  “What about Saturday night?” I folded my arms over my chest, shifting as the damp material clung to my torso.

  JC glanced at me, his focus dropping to my stomach and the clinging material before returning to my eyes. I might’ve missed the look if I hadn’t just been inadvertently fantasizing about the dude. But I had been, so I didn’t.

  Hmm. Could’ve just been an accidental glance. Or maybe I wasn’t the only one doing some fantasizing, inadvertent or otherwise.

  “I was just telling Lil about my new apartment.” Casually, he braced an arm on the ladder opened beside him. “You guys should come over. I’m having a get-together.” His lips quirked. “Housewarming or some shit.”

  “I have work orders to fill,” Lily began. “I just put up my website and I’m finally starting to see some action.”

  I nearly groaned. Christ, I needed to get laid. There was absolutely no reason every damn thing she said should make me think of sex.

  Not that I’d be able to take care of business for a few days yet. My Friday-night fight meant I couldn’t bust a nut until at least the weekend. When it came to keeping my advantage, I was superstitious in the extreme.

  “Yeah, and I’ll be recovering,” I said quickly when JC glanced my way. “I have a fight Friday night. I really don’t want to spend my weekend partying.”

  Other than picking up a couple of shifts at my seasonal job, mowing lawns and doing other landscaping, I intended to be sleeping. And fucking. In that order.

  “Damn, you two are seriously lame. What if I said the get-together would be totally low-key and if you didn’t want to stay more than a couple hours, you didn’t have to?”

  She sighed. “Jase, come on.”

  If she was whipping out “Jase”—from what I’d observed, no one called JC Jase except his mother and fleet of sisters—she was already weakening. She hated to say no to anyone, but especially to a friend. And JC was one of her closest ones. Probably the closest other than me.

  I frowned. When the hell had that happened?

  “No, you come on.” He grabbed her hands and tugged her closer, looming over her. Something prickled in my gut, and it wasn’t jealousy. Wasn’t only jealousy, anyway. “We hardly ever have time to hang out anymore. You’re always doing your art thang or working here, and I’m always busting my hump on a site. We gotta take some time, Lil.” He tossed me a glance. “All of us. You need the break too, Knapp.”

  I nearly asked him how he knew what I needed in any capacity, then bit my tongue. We were friends as well, even if I pretended we weren’t.

  Often.

  Yeah, so there might’ve been some denial in there on a pretty frequent basis on my part. Denial we were friends, denial I found him hot, denial I liked the way we all were together when I could pull the stick out of my ass. So if she wanted to go, I’d go too.

  Otherwise, I was going to skip it. Even if it turned out he didn’t discriminate between X and Y chromosomes, his washboard abs weren’t enough for me to risk opening that can of worms. He’d blab to Lily and tell her I wasn’t just the sweet older brother stand-in she’d always thought. I also liked to fuck rough and hard. To bruise and be bruised.

  “It’s up to Lily.” I didn’t elaborate, just waited.

  She tilted her head as if to say “seriously?” but she didn’t complain. She only bit her lip and nodded. “All right, fine. We’ll come over for a little while to check out your new place. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” JC grinned and picked her up to spin her around, making her laugh. “You made my freaking day.”

  He looked at me over her bobbing ponytail, including me in the moment. He always seemed to do that in one way or another.

  “We’re going to have a great time.” It was as if he was speaking directly to me. “The best time ever. You’ll see.”

  “Just make sure there’s beer.” I turned toward the door. “I gotta get back to my workout.”

  “Yeah. Good luck at the fight, man. See you Saturday.”

  In the doorway, I hesitated. There was something in his voice. Something I couldn’t place but recognized on an elemental level.

  Maybe I didn’t want to place it. Not then.

  “Yeah, thanks.” I tapped the flat of my hand on the unfinished frame above my head and kept going.

  Friday night needed to be my focus. Supposed “best time ever” or not, Saturday night wasn’t going to change my life.

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  USA Today bestselling author Cari Quinn likes music and men, so she figured why not write about both? When she’s not writing, she's screaming at men’s college basketball games on TV, playing her music too loud or causing trouble. Sometimes simultaneously.

  USA Today bestselling author Taryn Elliott is obsessed with rock stars, men, and her unending playlists—maximizing these things seemed like a very good idea. When she’s not writing, you can probably find her surrounded by planner supplies trying to organize her life.

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