Holding Strong
Page 91

 Lori Foster

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“Listen,” she heard Denver say. “That shit earlier—”
“You,” Armie said, “better start apologizing to her.”
“I figured I’d start with you.”
Yes, Cherry thought, he did owe Armie an apology.
Apparently Armie disagreed. “Not necessary. Desperate men do stupid things. And you, my friend, are desperate.”
“What are you talking about?”
Armie snorted. “One look at you and anyone can see you’re a man fighting a losing battle.”
What battle? Cherry wondered.
“Yeah,” Denver said as if making a grand confession. Then, “Fuck.”
“Sucks, I guess,” Armie commiserated. “But I hear tell it’s easier once you give in.”
“Somehow, with Cherry, I don’t think it’s going to be easy no matter what I do.”
Cherry was so put out by Denver’s forlorn tone that she pivoted from the wall and right back into the locker room.
Where Armie stood naked.
She squawked.
He jumped and quickly covered his goods with big hands.
Denver jumped in front of her and just as quickly covered her eyes with his hand. “What the hell, Cherry?”
She sputtered. Didn’t matter what Denver or Armie covered—the image was emblazoned on her brain. “I thought he’d gotten dressed!”
Suddenly Armie cracked up. His roar of laughter bounced off the walls of the locker room.
Cherry just stood there, Denver’s palm covering the top half of her face.
“It’s not funny,” she groused.
“Maybe a little funny,” Denver told her. “How much did you see?”
Her shoulders slumped. “Everything in the front.”
Armie got it together long enough to ask, “Did you want me to turn around and give you another peek?”
Cherry bit her lip.
Denver stiffened. “Damn it, girl—”
“No!” She cleared her throat, blindly reaching out to find his chest and pat it. “No, I don’t. Truly.”
“See, there, Denver. Truly she’s not interested.”
“You’re not helping, Armie!” Cherry wanted to smack him. “I’ll be embarrassed for the rest of my life, thanks to you.”
“No,” Denver told her. “You won’t—because you’re going to forget what you saw.”
Once Armie stopped laughing, he said to Denver, “I see what you mean about it not being easy.”
“Shut up, Armie!” she and Denver both said almost in unison.
Putting an arm around her, Denver ushered her out of the room, saying over his shoulder to Armie, “Get dressed.”
“Spoilsport,” Armie called after them.
Outside the room she was finally able to face Denver—and got a good look at his scowl. How dare he?
She shored up her umbrage, ready to give him a sizzling piece of her mind—and people crowded into the hallway behind her.
Cannon, Gage, Harper—and Leese.
Good Lord! She flashed a look up at Denver, but he didn’t appear surprised by Leese’s presence. Confusion left her blank.
Cannon glanced at each of them. “What’s all the commotion?”
Armie stepped out, now in jeans and a mostly ragged gray T-shirt that said: I like girls for their hearts. Their big, bouncy, jiggly hearts. Another T-shirt hung loosely in his hand. “Cherry got an eyeful, that’s all. Isn’t that right, Cherry?”
New heat suffused her face. “If you didn’t go prancing around naked—”
“Don’t start rumors, hon. I do not prance.”
Harper laughed. “He’s shameless, Cherry. Don’t let him make you blush or he’ll forever be teasing you.”
“Harper doesn’t blush,” Armie said. “She punches instead.”
Gage kept Harper at his side when she started to step away, then said to Armie, “Nice shirt.”
Leese even grinned over that.
Unable to take the suspense or the teasing a minute more, Cherry said, “Hi, Leese. What’s going on?”
Denver hugged her. “I invited him.”
“You did?” That was news to her. She knew they’d talked, but not that they’d...gotten friendly? Or just less hostile?
“Come on. We’re blocking the hallway.” He got her several feet before she stopped. “I’ll explain it all to you in the break room.”
She didn’t budge. Cannon and Leese went around them and disappeared into the locker room. Gage bent down to give Harper a soft but passionate kiss, then said, “Be right back,” before following them.