Jax scoffs as I push her hand back against her head. “It’s pretty fucking bad, babe,” Jax says as Arizona gets up to stack more weight onto his bar. “But it’s no big loss. That car was a piece of shit anyway. We’ll get you something real nice.”
Bri sends him a scathing glare that has him shrinking back. “I’ll have you know I worked my ass off to be able to afford that piece of shit.”
Guilt tears across Jax’s face and he glances to me as though I’m about to help him out of the hole he just dug himself. “You’re on your own, asshole.”
Jax gapes at me before turning back to Bri. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s been a long day and I was worried about you, and the words just slipped out. Forgive me?”
“Wow, Jax. I’m impressed,” she says, her hand on her heart as a wicked smirk crosses her face. “For a moment, I thought you Morgans were incapable of admitting when you’re wrong.”
Chanel chokes on a laugh as both Logan and I roll our eyes, but damn it, if it makes her smile right now, then I’ll fucking cop it on the chin. “Nope,” Chanel says, her gaze flicking toward Logan. “You were right, these Morgans really don’t know how to admit when they’re wrong. In fact, they don’t know how to admit to anything at all.”
Logan stands and looks at Chanel, his eyes narrowed. “Really?” he demands as the girls look between them like this is some kind of TV drama special. “You want to do this now?”
“What’s the point?” Chanel throws back at him. “The moment one of us says something a little too deep, you’re only going to run away like a little bitch.”
“Oh, fuck,” Jax laughs, finishing his set and dragging Arizona into his lap. “Shots fired.”
Logan storms toward Chanel, the two of them locked in an intense trance and I can’t help but wonder if this is what it looks like when Bri and I are at each other’s throats. “A little bitch?” he demands, reaching for her wrist and yanking her up off the couch. “I ain’t no fucking bitch.”
Logan grabs Chanel, hoisting her over his shoulder and storming out of my home gym, all while she belts her fists against his back, demanding he put her down. They’ve barely even moved into the den and closed the door before they start screaming at each other.
Ilaria laughs. “Those two just need to put their weapons down and realize that they’re good together.”
Hudson laughs and swivels his gaze toward me and Bri. “They’re not the only ones.”
“Huh?” Bri questions, having zoned out, her hand dropping away from her head again.
I push it back, making sure the ice is firmly in place before glaring at Hudson. “Nothing. He’s talking shit.”
“What’s the deal between you guys anyway?” Arizona pushes, making Bri’s eyes bug out of her head, neither of us knowing how the fuck to answer that question. “Are you together, fuck buddies, still hating each other but secretly pining for one another’s attention?”
Bri looks anywhere but at me and my heart starts to race. “I, ummm … we … we’re—”
Riley’s booming laugh cuts me off and my gaze falls to Bri’s, never seeing anyone look so relieved in my life. “They clearly haven’t had that conversation yet,” Riley says, taking amusement out of our awkward pain. “Why don’t we hash it out right now? Let’s get to the bottom of this so we’re all on the same page, because Bri, babe, if you’re really not feeling it, you know I’m down.”
Reaching over the side of the couch, I grab a water bottle and launch it at Riley’s head. “Fuck you, man,” I say, knowing that at some point, Bri and I are going to have to define this thing between us, but I’m sure as fuck not ready for that, and I know damn well that she’s not either.
The bottle smacks the asshole right in the center of his forehead and he whines, rubbing his head. “Ahhhh, fuck,” he groans, snatching it up and hurtling it straight back at me, but unlike Riley, my reflexes are on point.
My movement jostles Bri and she sucks in a breath, immediately making me feel like an ass. “See what you made me do,” I spit at Riley, knowing damn well that’s on me, but hell, if I get the opportunity to blame Riley for something, I’ll take it with both hands.
“You guys are idiots,” Bri tells us as the sound of Chanel being slammed up against the wall echoes through the gym, quickly followed by a low groan. Bri’s eyes widen. “No, please, no,” she says in horror as the rest of us laugh.
They quickly get into it and it takes only a moment for Jax to start commentating the whole deed. “The clothes are gone, and the stud is let out of the gate. He’s racing hard, determination in his veins, but she wants it more,” he says, Arizona chuckling in his lap. “We’re in for a treat, folks, it’s the race of a lifetime. The socialite princess up against the football superstar, who will take the prize? The stud has the stamina and is the favorite to win, but the princess packs a nasty bite and could squeeze any man into submission. It’s anyone’s game.”