Chased by Heather Ashley

"Hand it over!"Kennedy laughs, holding her hand out to Magnolia, who slaps some money into her palm.

These girls are my favorites, some of my very best friends, and they're all either engaged or married to the guys from a band I manage—Shadow Phoenix. I also hate them all for being so disgustingly in love.

"Why would you ever bet on Montana showing up on time?" Amara asks, slipping over in the booth to let me slide in.

"It's not my fault I'm the life of the party. It's expected I show up fashionably late," I say, snatching the menu out of Moon's hands. She holds out a bite-sized piece of fried chicken on top of a tiny waffle, and I almost bite her hand in my hurry to get it in my mouth.

"This place has the best brunch," I groan around a mouth full of food, knowing I look like an absolute heathen and not giving two fucks about it. This is why the men aren't allowed at our brunches, no matter how much shit they give the girls about it.

"Is your friend coming?" Ryan asks.

My friend Penelope is meeting my girl crew for the first time today and I sort of feel like I’m introducing a new boyfriend to my parents for the first time. Thankfully, mimosas help take the edge off.

I nod because I've already subjected them to seeing my food while it's being chewed, and once is probably enough for one brunch. When I finally swallow, I take a sip of the mimosa that's miraculously appeared in front of me. "She's running late."

Moon snorts and I glare at her across the table, but she's saved from my snarky comment when Penelope walks up to the table. Considering she's a billionaire heiress and the smartest person I know—seriously, genius-level—she looks like she wishes she could crawl under the table and hide from the group of us.

She tucks her shoulder-length wavy brown hair behind her ear and gives us a shy wave. "Hi, I'm Penelope. Sorry, I'm late. I promised a professor friend of mine at MIT I'd pop in for a quick lecture on computational learning theory this morning, and I lost track of time." Penelope gives us another small smile, and the rest of the girls are looking at her like they're not quite sure what to do, so I bump Amara. She scoots closer to Kennedy so there's room for Penelope on the end.

Ryan seems to be the first one to shake off the weirdness and introduces herself. "I'm Ryan; it's nice to meet you."

"Amara, and this is Kennedy," Amara says, tilting her glass toward the blonde on her left. "And the mermaid-looking bitch on the end is Moon."

“Hey!” Moon laughs and throws a piece of toast at Amara who tries—and fails—to catch it between her teeth.

"All these a-holes are either married or engaged to rock stars, so I needed to balance that shit out and bring in another single girl. Hope you don't mind, Pen," I say as movement over her shoulder catches my attention. I see Indy leaning against the wall nearby, with his arms folded across his chest and his gaze fixed on the seven of us before it slides over my new friend with interest.

At least this time, I was able to convince him to come and not Ronin. Of course, Ronin would've been fine with it when he knows I'm only going to be out with women. Asshole.

Penelope curiously looks over the group of women. Like me, she's crazy busy with her career, but unlike me, she has next to no time for friends, and so she told me once I'm pretty much her only one. It's the main reason I invited her today. Every girl needs her besties.

When I try to take another sip of my mimosa, I realize it's gone. Damn, the first one always goes down so fast. Now that I'm paying attention, I've got that fun buzzed feeling starting where everything feels a little bit lighter and sorta tingly, and I'm starting to be slightly off-balance but in a good way. Kennedy notices my empty glass and smiles knowingly before passing me the pitcher so I can grab a refill.

"Hey, it's not our fault those bastards aren't easy to resist," Ryan says defensively, but we all know she's been a goner for her husband, Maddox, since they were kids. She never even stood a chance.

"Anyway," Amara says, lifting her hand to signal for our waiter. If we don't get some real food and not tiny bites of deliciousness over here soon, we're all going to be drunk. "We're all boring and married or on the way to married." She flicks her gaze over to Magnolia, who grins sweetly. "We need some excitement, so regale us with tales of the single life."

Penelope giggled. "Being married to celebrities is boring? Somehow I doubt that's true."

Moon tilted her head back and laughed so her multi-colored hair caught the light and I totally got Amara’s comment about the whole mermaid thing. "It's had its moments, but it's mostly pretty normal and low-key now."

She isn't lying. Over the last few years, we've all been tits deep in their drama with all sorts of craziness that I bet they're all glad to have behind them now. "Alright, well, I'm not carrying the responsibility of entertaining you all by myself, so you're up, Pen. Tell us all about the last guy you fu-"

Penelope immediately turned a shade of pink that was impressive, considering she had lightly tanned skin. "I haven't even thought about dating or… that… in over a year. Not since my parents… Well, not since I took over the company. I barely had time for this brunch, and I have a conference call scheduled for the drive back after."

"Oh, honey. That's not healthy," Magnolia says, looking like she's about two seconds from jumping over the table and pulling Penelope into a hug. Her Southern sweetness is out in full effect.

Penelope shrugs, looking decidedly uncomfortable being the center of attention when I know she regularly commands an entire room of uptight asshole board members. "It's my life now."

After a few beats of silence where I'm not really sure what to say, and the waiters drop off our food, we dig in. With a few bites down, I decide I've had enough. "Alright, it's obvious none of you are going to carry this meal, so I'll tell you what's been going on with me."

Six sets of eyes are riveted on me, or at least I'm telling myself they're riveted. Who knows? They could be going over their grocery list in their head or something, but nope. They're on the edge of their seats, waiting for me to begin.

Yep, definitely.

"As you all know," I cut my eyes over to Penelope. "As most of you know," I amend, feeling like shit for leaving her out of the crazy, but really, she doesn't need more heaped onto her plate. "Some dillweed almost kidnapped me a couple of weeks back. Now I've got Lurch One and Lurch Two tag-teaming me." I smirk at the dirty entendre. I'm so clever when I'm buzzed.

Kennedy chokes on the drink she just took, and Ryan laughs. "Oh, and there's a Lurch Three in the mix, too, so yay me."

Ryan narrows her eyes at me. "Don't sit there and act like you're not loving being surrounded by a hot bodyguard sandwich twenty-four-seven."

Amara coughs. "A certain bodyguard in particular."

"Damn, am I that obvious?" I muse aloud before lifting my drink and gulping the rest. I probably should stop now, but brunch is only once a month, so why not live a little?

"Only when you stare at him across the room," Magnolia unhelpfully answers.

"Or undress him with your eyes," Kennedy piles on.

"Or get that dreamy look like you're imagining some dirty fantasy," Ryan adds.

"Jesus," I mutter, pouring myself a refill and maybe splashing some onto the table. There's a good chance it was there before, though. Yeah, I bet it was.

"Now that Ro-"

"Shh!" I hiss, cutting my gaze toward Indy.

Amara rolls her eyes. "Now that he's around all the time, how's that sexual tension treating you?" Her smile is smug and pisses me off because I should so be taking advantage of all the pheromones flying around between us, but noooo. He has to be all I’m a manwhore who doesn’t want your heart, just your pussy and even then, no thanks.

"Did he actually say that?" Kennedy asks, and I realize that last bit wasn't in my head like I thought.

"Yup. Apparently, he's one of those guys who has no problems sleeping with a girl, but the minute she wants commitment," I gesture vaguely away with my hand and make a whooshing sound. I think they get the point.

"He's not worth it, then. You'll find someone who recognizes your amazingness and treats you like the goddess you are," Magnolia says, and I get misty-eyed. Her words are slurring at the end, and the pitcher of mimosas has been replaced. Penelope has kept pretty quiet, but I can't blame her. It's hard to break into a new group, but at least I tried.

"The problem is I think it could be him if he'd pull his head out of his ass. Doesn't matter, though. I'm done waiting. My phone call with Mommy Dearest this week was all my grandchild this and your brother that. When I tried to tell her about signing DBD, she cut me off and suddenly had to go because Damon was calling. So, my five-year plan is moving up to a one-year plan because I can’t let him one up me. You all know how I get when I have a goal, and this girl wants to get knocked up like last year. No more hanging out making wishes. I'm making it happen." I'm pressing my finger into my own chest right between my tits, and I absently rub at the spot since now it's kinda sore.

"Okay, I have to ask," Ryan starts. "If you're so determined to do this, what if you meet the right guy while some freak is out there stalking you? That's probably not the best time to have a baby or start a new relationship."

"It's not like any of us started our relationships at the ideal times or had our kids when everything was perfect," Moon defends with a wink.

"I have to have faith that when the right guy comes along, it's meant to happen that way, and if not, that’s what sperm banks are for. In the meantime, I'm not going to sit around feeling sorry for myself because some creep decided I'm the prize he wants for whatever reason. I refuse to let him win. So, no, it might not be ideal, but it is what it is. And really, can't it take, like, months for someone to get pregnant once they start trying? Especially at my age?"

Amara laughs. "You're acting like you're fifty or something. You're thirty-two, not ancient."

"Eh, whatever. I have to consider the fact it might take time to meet the right guy, so this whole thing might be a moot point." Moot.

Such a funny word.

Moot. Moot. Moot.

I giggle.

"She's laughing about moot again, isn't she?" Ryan says.

"Mmhmm."

"I'm so sorry, but I have to get back," Penelope says while we're all digging into our food again now that my love life has gone through the wringer, and they know what's up with the whole kidnapper sitch.

"If you must," I tell her around a mouth full of French toast. "But text me later." I'm making it my personal mission to get Penelope to have fun every now and then because I know she won't do it on her own. She's way too serious for twenty-five, and since I met her, she's felt kinda like a younger sister, so I like to think my dragging her out places is my duty.

"It was nice meeting you all," she says with another tight smile and wave before taking off.

Amara sighs beside me. "We weren't very welcoming. Sorry, Mon."

I shrug. "Eh, Penelope's got her own baggage. I'm happy she showed up at all."

"Next time, I'll make sure we talk about less heavy stuff," Kennedy declares and then raises her glass for us to toast. "To a far less dramatic future."

We all murmur the words and clink glasses, but while I'm drinking, I can't help but wonder if the words are more ominous than hopeful.

* * *

I don't remember closingmy eyes on the ride home, but I'm in my bedroom back in my apartment when I open them. One of the guys must've carried me in from the car—three guesses who.

My mouth is dry, my head is pounding, and the room spins like I'm on a ride at the county fair.

The first thing I notice is the rat's nest of scarlet hair across my face that I bat at with my hands to try and clear off. The second is the shifting of Ro in the same chair I woke to find him in the first morning after the attack. Right now, he looks every inch the dangerous protector I know he can be, with darkness shrouding his eyes that I don't know if I've ever seen from him before.

"How about you tell me what I did wrong this time and save me the lecture? I'm not really feeling up to it," I croak. I'm sure I look about as sexy as Nick Nolte's mugshot, and honestly, I don't really want Ro looking at me right now. This look screams boner killer, and even though he's sampled the goods, I've been deemed unworthy of his affections. But, I still want him to see me at my best.

It's a matter of pride at this point.

"I heard about your little confessional at brunch," he says, and it's slow and casual, but I can hear the thread of steel lacing the words.

"Did you now? And what part exactly do you have an issue with? Or is it more that you don't like the truth because it doesn't make you look very good?" I snap, picturing all the ways I'm going to make Indy pay for repeating the things he heard during my girl's time.

"It's-"

"Let me guess. Complicated?" I roll my eyes and sit up, ignoring the way my stomach is flopping around like a damn fish.

"I'm here to keep you safe, and so while you're under my protection—and this extends out to Indy and Asher—no more dates. We're not here to tag along on your search for a boyfriend." He leans back in the chair and folds his arms across his broad chest. The logical part of my brain recognizes that he's putting his foot down on this because he's jealous, but my temper doesn't really give a fuck about logic.

"That's fine. Oh, and it’s baby daddy, boyfriend optional," I say calmly. Maybe too calmly based on the way his eyes narrow in suspicion, and his muscles tense up like he's bracing himself for a fight. "How about I just go without any of you coming along? It’s an easy fix."

He’s across the room in a flash, his hand wrapped around the base of my throat but not in a choking sort of way—more in a possessive way that makes my entire body heat and need coil low in my belly. Ro's face is so close to mine, with every breath, I can't help but share his oxygen.

"No more dates," he grinds out through clenched teeth, and when I shift closer, his fingers tense on my neck, his thumb above my pulse point, and our lips nearly touch.

"You're not allowed to demand that of me. Just because you don't want me doesn't mean-"

He growls and leans forward, kissing me so hard he steals the thought right out of my head. His tongue forces its way past my lips, and his other hand curves around my back and pulls me closer, so our bodies are plastered together from our chests to our hips. I'm lost in the kiss, and for a second, I forget why this is a bad idea. All I want to do is stay lost, never to be found again and completely at his mercy. Every stroke of his tongue sends me further into the hidden pocket of complete bliss he's carved out just for us.

I fall back onto the mattress, and he settles between my thighs. I'm cursing every layer of fabric between us as his thick cock presses against me. I rock my hips to urge him on, wanting more—needing everything he can possibly give. A whimper falls past my lips, and it's like everything changes with the sound.

When he pulls back, I'm gasping for air and drowning in the conflict swirling in his eyes. He looks lost, but there's hesitation, too, and I can't handle it. Not with everything else going on.

I push back on his chest, and he lets me go, untangling himself from how he's wrapped around me. The problem is I like the feeling of Ro all around me way too much, possessing me, treating my body like he owns it, considering he's made it so fucking clear he doesn't want me like that.

I jump up, avoiding eye contact, and hurry into the bathroom. My heart's still racing, my lips are swollen, and when I look in the mirror, my green eyes are way brighter than they should be, considering a heated makeout sesh with Ro is not at all what I should be doing right now.

A shower will help; I know it. It has to. I need a hard reset on my mood and hormones if I'm going to get through this night. If I didn't have to work, didn't have a club to go to and a client to handle, I'd bury myself in a book, maybe make an old-school blanket fort, and order in something really bad like a massive cheeseburger, fries, and the biggest chocolate shake I can find.

But that's not in the cards—at least not until I get home. If I get home before two a.m., I might still make it happen. I guess it depends on how Debauchery's show goes tonight. If I can keep myself busy enough, maybe I'll be able to block all thoughts of Ro out of my mind like it never happened.

That's a thing people can do, right?

As I shed my wrinkled and skewed clothes, I reach my hand out and test the water temperature of the rainfall setting on the showerhead before stepping under. I breathe in as deeply as I can—so deep that my lungs ache—before letting it all out. I'm so relieved to be in my own home again, in my own bathroom, that it takes some of the sting out of what just happened.

Normally I flove (that's fucking love in lazy speak) my job, but tonight my heart's not in it. I have to go to this club to watch Debauchery play, but I'm dreading it. At least if I put my foot down, I can get Indy or Asher to take me and leave Mister Hot and Cold at home. If I'm forced to be stuck with Ronin tonight, I might actually go insane.

Dramatic? Maybe, but it feels like I'm on the edge.

Everything's starting to catch up to me, and if I'm not careful, I might break under the weight of what my life is right now.

It feels like I blink, and the water is running cold, so I shut it off and towel dry. My heart thumps unevenly in my chest when I crack the door to my bedroom open and peek inside, but I let out a loud exhale when I find the room empty. Lucky me, Ro didn't stick around.

I rush to get dressed, pulling on a little black dress, sexy four-inch heels, and toss my hair up in a sleek pony. The show doesn't start for another two hours, but I can't stay here. The tension is too high, my spirit too damaged at the moment, and if I have to spend more than a few more minutes here languishing in all the shit, I don't know what I'll do.

Let's just say I am not a pretty crier, so best not to go full-on smeared mascara, red eyes, and snotty nose on the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life and his work buddies. No one needs to see that.

I tuck my black leather clutch up under my arm and straighten my spine, gathering what little of my nerve and confidence I have left after today, before strutting out to the living room, doing my best impression of a Victoria's Secret Angel on the runway.

I'm all swinging hips and tits out, chin up, pouty lips. You know, the whole sex goddess vibe. I want—no, I need Ro to see I'm fine and also what he's missing out on. Maybe I'll meet the one tonight, and he'll have lost his chance. The thought makes me smile, and when I walk into the living room, three sets of eyes swing in my direction, but only one lingers.

His eyebrows pull down, and I can see a storm brewing in his eyes. It's a massive effort to keep from flipping him off because seriously fuck him. He doesn't get to give me that look when an hour ago he pushed me away.

"Going somewhere, Red?" Indy drawls.

"Yeah, I have a work thing. Mind tagging along?"

Indy tilts his chin in Asher's direction, where the newest addition to my security team leans against the wall exuding a dangerous energy with his arms folded and his boot kicked up against it. "Take Ash. If it's the DBD thing, Connor'll be there because Zen's going, so you don't need Ronin or me, and I sure as hell could use some sleep."

Ro looks like he wants to protest, but Indy moves across the room and then elbows him hard in the ribs in the least subtle way ever. "Yeah, we'll stay here."

I nod. "Yeah, it's for Debauchery. I don't know how long we'll be, so don't wait up," I tell him, moving toward Asher. He pushes off the wall, his dark hair falling into his darker eyes. I haven't spent much time at all with Asher, and I don't know him well, but right now, having him shadow me tonight is more comfortable than being around Ronin.

"Hold up," Asher says when I get to the door, and he crosses the room. The guys have a low conversation before he nods and straightens, the ink painting his arms catching the light as he walks back in my direction. "Let me check the hall, then we'll go."

I lean against the wall beside the door while he steps out, and I tap my foot, ready to get the hell out of here and on with my night. The idea of having a built-in chauffeur suddenly strikes me as the best thing ever, since now I can have a few guilt-free drinks once my work is done. If anything, all I need to do tonight is take the edge off so I can blow off some steam.

One of my favorite clients and friends, Zen Taylor—lead singer of Shadow Phoenix—will be there, so it won't be all bad. Feeling a bit better about the prospects of this evening, I don't even look back when Asher holds the door open for me to follow him out.

"No dates!" Ro's deep baritone calls out from behind me, and this time I do flip him off over my shoulder.

I'm done looking back and wasting time on wishful thinking. Too bad I already know that's a big fat lie.