The Harder You Fall (Rixon Raiders 3)

“What will you tell her?”

“That I’m staying with the girls.”

I gave her a curt nod. I didn’t expect her to tell her aunt the truth, but it still stung knowing I was her dirty little secret.

“It’s just easier this way, Asher,” Mya added, sensing my chang

e in mood.

“It’s all good,” I said around an easy smile as we entered my room. “At least your aunt gives a shit what you’re doing and who you’re with.”

My dad hadn’t cared in a long time. As long as I wasn’t tarnishing his reputation, he’d pretty much washed his hands of me. Most kids eagerly awaited the day their parents went out of town and left them home alone, but I’d been used to my own company since ninth grade.

“You want a t-shirt to sleep in?”

“I… uh…” Mya lowered her eyes, toying with the hem of her shirt. “I guess.”

With a quiet chuckle, I went over to the dresser and pulled out a clean Raiders jersey.

“Oh, hell no, I’m not wearing that.” Her nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Please.” I stuck out my bottom lip. “For me?”

“Asher, come on… isn’t there some kind of jersey ritual where you should only let your girl wear your number?”

“That’s a thing?” I teased. “I never knew.”

“I’d rather sleep naked than wear that thing.”

“Really? Because that can be arranged.”

Shaking her head, Mya fought a smile. “Fine, give it here.”

“The bathroom’s through there.” I pointed to the door.

“Oh, I remember.” She gave me a bemused look as she stalked past me, my jersey in a death grip. “I hope you cleaned up after last night,” her voice drifted back to me and I smothered a laugh.

While Mya got changed, I stripped out of my clothes and dumped them on the chair. I didn’t expect to turn around and see her standing in the doorway watching me through hooded eyes. “See something you like?” My brow quirked up as I patted my abs.

Heat blazed in her eyes as she let her gaze run down my body. “Nice… tattoo.” She grinned.

I stepped toward her. “We both know you weren’t looking at my tattoo, Hernandez.” It was my turn to let my eyes trace over her body. “Fuck, you look good in my jersey.” It clung to her curves, hinting at her killer body underneath.

“At least it covers my ass,” she shot back, fingering the hem which landed almost at her knees.

“I should probably check.” I spun a finger and mouthed, “twirl.”

She rolled her eyes. “You wish.”

Oh how I did.

“You’re not sleeping like that, are you?”

“I always sleep like this,” I said. “But if you think you can’t resist touching me, I can put something on.”

“I…” Mya swallowed. “I think I’m capable of resisting.”

“Wanna bet?”