Worth It (Forbidden Men 6)

After a brief nod, I muttered, “Okay.”

He blinked, cocked his head to the side and crinkled his brow. Then amusement entered his features. “Well, all right then,” he answered and slapped me hard on the side of the arm. “Glad we had this chat. But don’t expect a hug or anything from me, because I’m not into that shit. ’Kay?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Well...good.”

He began to turn away, until I asked, “Would you really have fucking hugged me?”

With a sniff, he sent me a scowl. “No.” Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe...if you’d been a total pussy about it and started crying or something.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You really thought telling me it sucked and that you got it would make me cry?”

“Hey, fuck you, man. At least I tried to sympathize.”

I knew he was going to storm off in a pissed-off rage, so I quietly said, “Okay, fine. Thank you for trying.”

Pausing, he sent me a leery squint.

So I added, “And you’re right. It sucks.”

His shoulders deflated a little and he nodded. Sorrow filled his face. “I swear, the happy memories get to you the most. Make you feel like you’re trying to breathe through grinding sawblades or some shit.”

I drew in a sharp breath and nodded, feeling those blades now as Bentley’s innocent little blue eyes and red hair wavered to the forefront of my mind. Then Mercy’s smile as she danced around the kitchen with Hash, Speed and Cobra having a jousting match with empty toilet paper rolls they’d taped together.

Yeah, the happy memories did hurt the most.

“Yeah,” Ten murmured, echoing my thoughts. He nodded, patted me more softly on the arm, and moved out from behind the bar, calling out to all the waitresses and the waiting doorman that it was time to open.

I turned to watch him, and almost jumped out of my skin when I found Felicity right there, on the other side of the counter, frowning as she darted her gaze between me and Ten.

“What’re you doing here?” I demanded, giving an internal wince at how hard and accusing my voice sounded.

/>

Obviously not expecting the question, she yelped and dropped the box of napkins she’d been stuffing.

Wide blue eyes gaped at me. “I...I’m working,” she stuttered before frowning and gritting her teeth as if mad at herself for flinching away from me.

I shook my head. “You’re not on the schedule.”

Her eyebrows crinkled. “Mandy has a sick kid, so I’m filling in her for her.”

“Does Pick know?”

Sputtering, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. Why? If we can find a replacement, we don’t bother him with little changes here and there.”

Shit, I was stuck working with her for a full night. And she looked really good in that black Forbidden shirt, blue jean skirt and half apron tied snug around her waist.

I drew in a sharp breath as quietly as possible. But, damn. Why did she still have to be so fucking breathtaking?

“Oh,” was all I mumbled as I began to turn away.

“Don’t worry,” she snipped at my back, her tone turning sharp. “I won’t try to make you talk tonight. I’ve completely lost the desire to say anything to you, anyway.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to break as the sound of her tears in the stairwell of Pick’s apartment building echoed through my ears.

It was best to be distant with her, I repeated to myself. It was best for her if I pushed her away.