by Marie James
“How’s your head?” Laughter surrounds me when Jasmine and Max walk up and sit down.
“Fine,” I grumble, and from the light sparkling in her eyes, I know I haven’t heard the last of it.
“Dude, she legit just laid you out,” Max laughs.
“No one says dude anymore, old man.” My words don’t wipe the grin from his face.
“Maybe you should rethink your approach?” Jasmine adds helpfully, but when the corner of her mouth ticks up, I can’t tell if she’s offering honest advice or if I’m soon to be the butt of another joke.
“Don’t give the guy any more ideas,” Tug says as he takes a seat on the other side of Jasmine. The three are so close, she’s practically sitting in both of their laps.
Max and Jasmine take the beers Tug offers without pulling their attention from me.
“He’s not going to bother her anymore, right, Cannon?” Samson asks, glaring at me until I nod in agreement.
“That may be best,” Max says.
“Would probably end up with more than a bruised ego if you tried to press your luck,” Tug adds.
“You shouldn’t have touched her.” This comes from Jasmine. “Your dad isn’t going to be happy when he hears about it.”
“People should keep their mouths shut,” I snap, but then the guilt settles in.
I don’t know exactly why I trailed my finger down her arm. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe my ego couldn’t handle standing there and her ignoring me, but no matter the reason, I shouldn’t have reached out to her.
Dad isn’t going to be happy. Hell, I’m not happy with myself, and now she probably thinks I’m the biggest douche that walked the earth. This is her home, and I fucked up by how I acted.
“You shouldn’t have touched her,” Jasmine repeats.
“I know.”
“This isn’t the bar. She’s not one of your groupies.”
“I know.” I cut my eyes in her direction. Jinx has joined them. “Maybe I should apologize.”
“No!” echoes around me from my friends. The declaration is so loud, half the room turns to look in our direction.
Rivet can’t be bothered to glance over at us, and that stings more than it should.
If she weren’t so tall and domineering, I don’t think I’d give her a second look. I blame it on boredom, having too much of the same thing all the time and wanting something different.
We may not even be compatible for all I know. She could want to pin me to the bed instead of the other way around, and no matter how many times I run that scenario through my head, I can’t see that being something I’ll ever be interested in.
She’s not going to drop me to the floor without so much as a twitch in her muscles warning me that was going to happen and then want me to take control.
I shiver at the thought of being tied down and dominated.
Yeah, that scene isn’t for me.
“Quit,” Samson snaps, kicking my foot. “Leave her alone.”
Reluctantly, I pull my eyes, ceasing the hole I’m practically drilling into her back and face my friends.
“Are you working with Ian again this spring break?” Samson asks, changing the subject.
I scrape a hand over the top of my head, further messing up my already messy hair.
“I don’t think so. He hasn’t called. But if he does, can I catch a ride with you guys to Denver?” I grin, looking over at Max, Jasmine, and Tug.
Jasmine’s cheeks pink. “Denver? We don’t have plans to go to Denver.”
I cock an eyebrow. Max shifts his weight. Tug clears his throat.
They all three know what I’m inferring. Hale-ish, the sex club they frequent, is in Denver. I’m not twenty-one yet, but the second my birthday rolls around, I’m going to take my newly established adulthood straight to their front steps.
“We’re fixing to head out in a few days,” Tug says rather than opening up a can of worms and acknowledging what I was implying. “I don’t know if I’ll be back before then.”
“What about you two?” I grin at Jasmine and Max. “You guys heading up there?”
“We don’t go to—we don’t visit Denver alone. We like to travel together,” Jasmine says.
Tug is frowning at me, and Samson doesn’t look very impressed either, so I nod and let my gaze wander around the room. The subject drops, but I don’t add anything when everyone else starts talking about a possible trip or a long weekend to go skiing.
The get-together is breaking up, and at some point, Rivet left the room without me knowing, but that’s fine. The attraction I feel for her has more to do with boredom than anything else. And it’s that lie on my mind when I stand and tell everyone goodnight.
I make my way across the room toward the kitchen, strategically keeping my eyes off the hallway that leads to her room. Thankfully, my parents’ house is less than fifty yards from the back entrance to the clubhouse.
The house is silent when I enter and thank God for small favors. I have a year left at college, but if I return to Farmington, which isn’t likely with my degree plan, I’m going to need to get off this property. This summer is already going to be hell with Griffin and Ivy back. Those two go at it more than Mom and Dad do, and although it’s not as gross, it’s just a steady reminder that although I talk a big talk, I usually end up spending most nights alone.
Chapter 5
Rivet
My mind is still spinning when I finally make it to my room. Other than taking a cursory glance earlier when I tossed my bag in, I haven’t really had a look around.
My bag is tossed by the bed just where I left it, but there’s a wrapped gift sitting in the middle of my mattress that I eye warily. It must be from the guys if the camo wrapping paper is any indication, and it’s the worst wrapped gift I’ve ever seen. Half of one end isn’t even covered with paper, and it looks like whoever was responsible for it took a sharpie and colored on the box to make up for the lack of paper. The bow on top is flat and crooked, but the sight of it still brings a smile to my face.
These guys are different from what I first expected. Maybe it’s my jaded experiences that made me want to tuck tail and run away before I even made it through the front door, but I was right when I spoke to Bishop earlier—these guys are the cream of the crop.
Other than Jinx licking his lips every time I caught his eye and that fool Cannon, my night was actually enjoyable. From what Grinch said, the evenings around the clubhouse are pretty low-key.
He mentioned parties that get a little wild after they get back from a mission, but that’s understandable. I’m no stranger to needing a wild night myself when adrenaline and the thrill of making it back home safe and sound doesn’t seem to want to let go.
Before I can pick up the package, my phone rings. Pulling it from my pocket, I smile when I see the name and picture pop up on the screen.
“Twice in one day?” I say in lieu of hello. “You must not be far enough east to be making a difference.”
Bishop chuckles. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Your worries are for nothing,” I tell him as I plop down on the mattress.
A card I hadn’t noticed before I sat and jostled the package peeks out from under the long rectangular box.
“So they didn’t have an issue with the first female Cerberus member?”
“Not that I could tell.” I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder and flip open the card.
For all the lonely nights when you’re too tired to hit the bar, it reads.
All the guys have signed it. Well, all the guys it seems but the original members.
“Any good-looking guys there?”
I scoff at his question.
“They’re all ridiculously good-looking. It seems to be a prerequisite for the club.”
“See? And you thought you wouldn’t fit in. I’ve always said you were gorgeous.”
I don’t respond to that. After that night in Bahrain, Bishop wasn’t as quick to let go of the
reasoning that hooking up was a mistake. The topic is rarely brought up these days, but he’s always hinting at it like he just did.
That night, the one night we shared, was filled with grunts and moans, sweat and hands everywhere. It was the only time he ever told me I was gorgeous. I shake my head to clear it of the memories. I’m not fooling myself. I’m not trying to convince myself that it was less than it was. I’ve always seen that night as something that would end up destroying our friendship. It was a good night—a great night, but it’ll never happen again. I don’t want it to happen again. I’m not pining for him like I suspect he does for me occasionally.
“They got me a gift.”
I pick up the box shaking it. The rattle it emits gives me no clues as to what’s inside of it.
“What did they get you?” There’s caution in his voice that makes me roll my eyes.
“Don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet. It’s heavy as hell though.”
“Open it,” he urges, and his insistency makes me want to hang up and peer inside by myself.
Then I feel guilty. I let Cannon get me agitated and now I’m deflecting that negativity on Bishop. After we hang up, I don’t know how long I’ll go until I get to hear from him again.
“They did a super shitty job at wrapping the thing.” I tug at the tape, but there seems to be layers of it.
“Guys aren’t very good at wrapping shit,” he says almost dismissively. “Are you opening it?”
“Trying.” My phone is still between my ear and shoulder, but this stupid paper is going to take more range of motion. “Hold on. Let me set the phone down.”
“Put it on speaker,” he says before I can pull it from my ear.
I hit the speaker button and set the phone beside my thigh.
“I bet it’s new night vision.”
“Wouldn’t that rock?”
I didn’t bring any gear with me. Kincaid had emailed, letting me know that everything would be issued upon my arrival, so other than my handgun, I came empty-handed.
“Good night gear is hard to come by.”
“I imagine they only have the top-tier shit there, Rivet.”
He sounds a little bitter.
“Are you still wanting to join Cerberus?”
We avoid this topic as well. Bishop had high hopes for his military career, but it hasn’t been everything his recruiter made it out to be. I smile at that. Every single person who has entered the military was lied to by their recruiter. Mine wanted to be my best friend, letting me drink and hang out at his house even though I was still in high school at the time. We were good friends, or so I thought.
When I was two weeks into boot camp and called to beg him to get me out, he acted like he didn’t even know who I was. Everything from the recruiters is sugarcoated, and I walked away from that phone realizing that trust isn’t as fluid as you think.
Cerberus doesn’t have an application process. They seek you out. I don’t know if they have some sort of inside man that keeps an eye on people’s exit interviews or what, but this isn’t something you apply for. If you qualify, they come to you.
“What’s the gift?”
I shake my head, letting him get away with not answering my question.
“Holy shit,” I mumble when I flip the box lid back.
“Is it night vision?”
A chuckle slips from my lips as I stare inside the box.
“It’s books,” I lie as I grip the handle of the jug of lube.
To the side of the lube is a massive dildo. It’s size no less ominous for being bright pink.
“Books?” He either sounds confused or can tell that I’m lying, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him the truth. We put a hard limit on all topics regarding sex, and even thousands of miles away isn’t enough distance for me to bring the subject up.
Now the card makes sense.
For all the lonely nights when you’re too tired to hit the bar.
All the guys appeared genuinely shocked when I walked into the conference room earlier. They must’ve been scrambling to purchase this shit. It reminds me of the good-natured pranks we would pull on each other when we had downtime back on base.
“Rivet?”
I narrow my eyes at my phone when Bishop snaps at me.
“Sorry,” I tell him after picking up the phone and taking it off speaker. “What did you say?”
“What books did they get you?”
My mind scrambles to think of something. I don’t read much. Who has the time for that, honestly?
“The Art of War,” I lie.
“And?” He pauses. “You said books, plural. What else?”
“Umm.” Shit. He must know I’m lying. “A book about George Washington.”
“Really? Night vision would’ve been cooler.”
“So much cooler,” I agree.
“Ah shit. I gotta go.”
“Be sa—” I begin, but the line goes dead in my ear.
Relief to be off the phone and guilt over my lies eat away at me as I stare down at the “gift,” trying to figure out if they’re the type of guys to bring it up in the morning over breakfast or they’ll just leave it be.
Maybe the best solution would be to bring it up myself.
I tuck the gift, still in the box, onto the top shelf of my closet, strip down to my boy-short underwear and fall into the bed. I can unpack tomorrow.
Chapter 6
Cannon
“Coffee,” I groan as I step into the kitchen.
Mom steps away from the counter so I can reach the pot.
“Rough night?” she asks, sipping from her own cup.
“Not really. We just hung out in the clubhouse. I actually went to bed decently early.”
I look at Dad from the corner of my eye, but he’s reading something on his tablet and doesn’t look up at me. Maybe he hasn’t heard of the complete ass I made of myself last night.
“Cream?” Mom asks, holding the carton up.
I shake my head. “It’s a black coffee kind of day for me.”
She returns the creamer to the door of the fridge before taking a seat beside my dad. Morrison “Shadow” Griggs is a serious man on his best day. He raised Griffin and me to be men, yet sensitive to the needs of those around us, and it’s that raising that lets me know we’re going to have a serious conversation today. The air is different from the way it normally is, and I know before I turn away from the coffee pot with my first cup of joe that he’s gotten wind of my shenanigans last night.
“I’ll apologize to her,” I mutter as I take a seat across from my parents at the kitchen table.
“I’d hope so,” he says without looking up. Tension fills his jaw as it flexes, and I know he wants to say more.
He’s disappointed, and I know if I could stomach to glance up into my mother’s eyes, I’d see the same from her as well.
My first instinct is to ask who told him, but that’s not the problem no more today than it was last night.
“I expect my men to be respectful to every woman they encounter, whether they’re on Cerberus property or not. I expect more from you. As my son, you have to set a better example.” Dad sets down his tablet on the table, and I know I can no longer hide my eyes from him.
“Do you treat women that way at school?” Mom asks.
I shake my head. “No. I mean I joke around and sh—stuff, but I don’t touch them without permission. I fu—messed up last night. It won’t happen again.”
“She needs to feel safe. Rivet needs to know that the clubhouse is her safe place, and if you can’t respect the boundaries while you’re over there, I’ll ban you from the building.”
I nod at Dad, understanding exactly where he’s coming from.
“Most boys your age would shrug this off. They’d say it’s no big deal. It’s not like you kissed her or grabbed her ass or something, but you’re not most guys. Cerberus isn’t most men. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” And I seriously do und
erstand. How I acted last night, even though it came across as all bravado when Rivet slammed me to the ground, was mostly shock and awe at myself, at knowing it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t touched her without permission. I was surprised she did it. I was disappointed in myself for putting her in that position.
Dad is drilling the point home, but my lack of sleep last night had everything to do with my guilt.
Tension fills the air, and I want to get up and leave, but he hasn’t dismissed me yet.
Mom sighs a long-winded rush of air before she picks her cup back up.
“What are your plans for spring break?”
I give her a weak smile in appreciation for being the one to change the subject.
“I don’t know yet. Ian hasn’t called about spending the week in Denver. I may head somewhere with my friends.”
“You could always stick around here and figure out the ropes with Cerberus,” Dad offers.
It’s not the first time he’s hinted at wanting me to work for the “family” business, but my degree will be in finance, geared more toward corporations.
“If he calls, I’m going to Denver. Ian Hale is running a billion-dollar business. I don’t want to miss out on that opportunity.”
“Cerberus is running a billion-dollar business,” Dad says casually, drinking his coffee.
“What?” My brow pinches together. Surely, I heard him wrong.
“You heard me right.” Dad winks at Mom when she chuckles. “We’re kind of a big deal.”
“Geez,” I groan. “Have you guys been watching Will Ferrell movies again?”
Dad smiles, but he doesn’t confirm.
“Listen, Cannon, I know you want to get away from here. I know you have stars in your eyes and think every other place is better than New Mexico, but there are just as many opportunities here as there are with Ian Hale in Denver.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Plus, we have the park fundraiser that same week. It would be nice to have you around to help,” Mom interjects.
“You mean to lug around heavy stuff?” I grin at her.
“Exactly.”
“Mexico is sounding better and better.”
“What?” Mom looks shaken.