Holding Strong
Page 85

 Lori Foster

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Hustling, Armie headed for the locker room and the fastest shower of his life.
* * *
“I’M TAKING YOUR class for you,” Stack said.
Having just finished a shower after sparring with Cannon, Denver sat on a wooden bench, taking a moment to rest. He’d thought he was alone, but there stood Stack fresh from his own shower, wearing only a towel around his hips. “Why’s that?”
“Because you look like shit.” Speculative, Stack said, “Don’t suppose Cherry kept you up all night?”
“Actually, yeah.” Rubbing the tired muscles in the back of his neck, Denver flexed and popped his head to the side.
In the middle of finger-combing his wet hair, Stack paused, intrigued. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He stretched, so tired he didn’t even care that Stack was probably imagining all sorts of things he shouldn’t, like Cherry in excess-sex mode. “But I can handle the class.”
“You sure? I don’t mind.”
Rather than admit he’d feel like a wuss if he let a woman throw him off stride, Denver asked, “No big date tonight?”
“Later,” Stack said as he pulled a clean T-shirt out of a locker. “I have time.” He stepped into jeans.
It was Denver’s turn to speculate. “I thought you and Vanity were getting together.”
“Not until the wedding.” Taking his own seat on the bench, Stack pulled on socks and athletic shoes and pretended not to see Denver scrutinizing him. “You can quit that shit any time now.”
Grinning, Denver said, “You weren’t going to expound?”
“On the date tonight? No. Just a friendly hookup.”
“Will Vanity be pissed?”
“She said not.” Stack rolled a shoulder, looking a little pissed himself. “She more or less told me to go about my business until the wedding.”
To make sure he understood, Denver asked, “Go about your business with other women?”
Suddenly, Stack turned to blast him with his frustration. “That’s fucked up, right? I mean, she comes on to me, only to set a date—for sex—that’s weeks away, but doesn’t care what I do until then. Have you ever heard of a woman making that arrangement?”
“Ah...no.” But it made him wonder if Vanity had suggested it specifically to make Stack nuts. If so, she was succeeding.
“Know what I think?” Stack stood to slam his locker. “I think she’s off doing God-knows-what with other guys and that’s why she made the deal in the first place.”
“That matters to you?”
He stalled. Dropped his head. Muttered, “Fuck,” in a really mean way. Then he shook it off to glare at Denver. “I don’t know.”
Doing his best not to laugh, Denver stood, too. “Some unsolicited advice—if it does matter to you, then don’t wait for the wedding.” As a man who’d waited, he knew the regrets that could bring.
What if Cherry hadn’t pressed the issue when they were out of town for Armie’s fight? What if he hadn’t finally broken?
She’d have been in that hotel room by herself, sick without anyone to help her.
And she’d be dealing with Carver and his dick brothers all on her own.
The idea tormented him. Especially when he thought about how different she might be now if he’d gotten together with her a lot sooner. Maybe she’d be more open already.
Maybe she’d have already given up her secrets.
“I don’t know,” Stack muttered in disgust. “She was pretty clear.”
“About wanting to wait? Maybe she just used the wedding as an icebreaker. You know it’s impossible to figure out women. Your best bet is to ask her outright.”
With a rude snort, Stack dropped back against the locker. “Like you did with Cherry?”
“Freely admit it, I fucked up.”
“Yeah, says the man who spent the night getting laid.”
The laugh came before he could stop it, then he immediately pointed at Stack and said, “Shut up.”
Still grinning, Stack held up his hands in understanding. Jokes about a casual hookup were no big deal, but with Cherry it was more than that. “If you don’t want me to do the class, then I’m heading out for some relief sooner rather than later.”
“Will you at least think about talking to Vanity?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I’ll think about her all right, even when I shouldn’t be if you know what I mean, but talking won’t be in the equation.”