Not a single ounce of animus could be heard in his tone. In fact, Armie might have been discussing the weather.
“You’re not dating her?”
“Nope.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “You have to the count of three, my man. One, two—”
To her surprise, Heath let her go.
As if he’d expected no less, Armie took another drink.
Yvette resisted the urge to rub her arm, unwilling to do anything that might set Armie off. Sidling closer to him, she said in a low voice, “Time for you to go, Heath.”
“I came all this way to see you. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
Armie looked at her. “You interested in talking to Slick? Or should I boot his ass to the curb?”
Damn it. Armie was spoiling for a fight, and that’d only draw the attention of everyone in the place.
“Take it easy, Armie. Please. I’d as soon avoid causing a scene if I can, okay?”
He laughed. “Now, honey, you gotta know I don’t mind a scene.”
Mouth tight, she said, “You might not, but I do.”
“So I can’t rough him up?”
Heath worked his jaw. “I’m allowed to be here. It’s a public place.”
“Not really, no,” Armie told him.
Quickly, Yvette interrupted. “If you have something to say, Heath, say it and then get out.” If Armie told him that Cannon owned the rec center, it just might become the victim of vandalism. She couldn’t bear bringing more trouble to him.
She’d done enough of that already.
Heath bristled, Armie smirked at him and she racked her brain to find a way to defuse things without having Heath misconstrue her intentions.
Suddenly an arm slipped around her and Cannon’s familiar heat enveloped her. In front of God and Heath and everyone else, he tipped up her chin and put his mouth to hers. He didn’t prolong things, but neither was it a simple peck.
Against her parted lips, he asked, “Why wasn’t I invited to this little party?”
On a silent groan, Yvette closed her eyes.
His breath touched her ear, and he said so softly only she could hear, “Have a little faith, honey.”
Then, still with one arm cuddling her, he held out his hand to Heath. “I’m Cannon.”
Eyes bright with hatred, Heath stared at him. “I know who you are.”
Cannon didn’t miss a beat. “Heath, right? How are you?”
Nonplussed, Heath looked at the proffered hand...and warily accepted it. There was no one-upmanship, no breaking grips or anything beyond a friendly greeting.
Cannon was cool personified.
“I’m fine.” Heath’s gaze went from Armie to Yvette to Cannon. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tired actually, after my trip. I’d like to talk to Yvette before I go back to my room to rest up.”
Armie made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck. The caveman.
For only a split second, Cannon smiled at his friend. “I’ve got this, Armie. Why don’t you go finish up the demonstration for me?”
“You never let me have any fun.” Armie walked off with the same easy attitude he’d used to approach.
Anger swelling, Yvette eyed both men. Beyond wanting to avoid an ugly public confrontation, she didn’t want Cannon fighting her battles.
“So.” Staying relaxed, nonthreatening, Cannon shrugged. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Heath stiffened anew. “You don’t speak for her.”
“Wouldn’t even try,” Cannon said. “She speaks for herself, and we both know she’s been clear.”
“More than clear,” Yvette said. “Multiple times.”
Unwilling to accept that, Heath leveled his most intimidating glare on her. “You’ve gotten awfully lippy.”
Both men looked at her, Heath with anger, Cannon with support. “I’m fed up, Heath. How else can I say it? We’re done and there’s nothing else to talk about.”
“You sure you want to take that tone?” He ignored Cannon and focused only at her. “After everything?”
When Cannon tightened, she put a hand on him to let him know she could handle it. Sure, she was shaking. Mortified. Nervous. But she would not let Heath cow her. “I’ll take whatever tone is necessary for you to understand.”
Heath started to take a step closer and Cannon moved into his path. “No.”
Around him, Heath said, “I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than he ever could. You might want to remember that.”
Her lips felt stiff, her eyes burning. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Yeah, right.” His mocking gaze went to Cannon. “She tell you all about her hang-ups?”
“That’s none of your business,” Yvette said.
“Far as I can tell,” Cannon added, “she’s perfect.”
Heath went red faced with rage—a rage he aimed at Yvette. “So you’re f**king him?”
She flinched at his raised voice. If she looked, would everyone in the place be staring at them?
“Whoa.” Cannon moved her behind him. “That’s enough.”
“Fuck you, too!”
As she’d seen him do before, Heath went from zero to eighty in the blink of an eye.
“Here’s the thing,” Cannon said, still calm with a quiet authority that unnerved Heath more than a shouting match ever could. “You’re not going to talk to her alone. Not today, not ever. If you want to talk to her at all, it’ll be when you’re calm, and I’ll be there. Even then, it’s only if Yvette agrees. Right now, she doesn’t.”
“You’re not dating her?”
“Nope.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “You have to the count of three, my man. One, two—”
To her surprise, Heath let her go.
As if he’d expected no less, Armie took another drink.
Yvette resisted the urge to rub her arm, unwilling to do anything that might set Armie off. Sidling closer to him, she said in a low voice, “Time for you to go, Heath.”
“I came all this way to see you. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
Armie looked at her. “You interested in talking to Slick? Or should I boot his ass to the curb?”
Damn it. Armie was spoiling for a fight, and that’d only draw the attention of everyone in the place.
“Take it easy, Armie. Please. I’d as soon avoid causing a scene if I can, okay?”
He laughed. “Now, honey, you gotta know I don’t mind a scene.”
Mouth tight, she said, “You might not, but I do.”
“So I can’t rough him up?”
Heath worked his jaw. “I’m allowed to be here. It’s a public place.”
“Not really, no,” Armie told him.
Quickly, Yvette interrupted. “If you have something to say, Heath, say it and then get out.” If Armie told him that Cannon owned the rec center, it just might become the victim of vandalism. She couldn’t bear bringing more trouble to him.
She’d done enough of that already.
Heath bristled, Armie smirked at him and she racked her brain to find a way to defuse things without having Heath misconstrue her intentions.
Suddenly an arm slipped around her and Cannon’s familiar heat enveloped her. In front of God and Heath and everyone else, he tipped up her chin and put his mouth to hers. He didn’t prolong things, but neither was it a simple peck.
Against her parted lips, he asked, “Why wasn’t I invited to this little party?”
On a silent groan, Yvette closed her eyes.
His breath touched her ear, and he said so softly only she could hear, “Have a little faith, honey.”
Then, still with one arm cuddling her, he held out his hand to Heath. “I’m Cannon.”
Eyes bright with hatred, Heath stared at him. “I know who you are.”
Cannon didn’t miss a beat. “Heath, right? How are you?”
Nonplussed, Heath looked at the proffered hand...and warily accepted it. There was no one-upmanship, no breaking grips or anything beyond a friendly greeting.
Cannon was cool personified.
“I’m fine.” Heath’s gaze went from Armie to Yvette to Cannon. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tired actually, after my trip. I’d like to talk to Yvette before I go back to my room to rest up.”
Armie made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck. The caveman.
For only a split second, Cannon smiled at his friend. “I’ve got this, Armie. Why don’t you go finish up the demonstration for me?”
“You never let me have any fun.” Armie walked off with the same easy attitude he’d used to approach.
Anger swelling, Yvette eyed both men. Beyond wanting to avoid an ugly public confrontation, she didn’t want Cannon fighting her battles.
“So.” Staying relaxed, nonthreatening, Cannon shrugged. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Heath stiffened anew. “You don’t speak for her.”
“Wouldn’t even try,” Cannon said. “She speaks for herself, and we both know she’s been clear.”
“More than clear,” Yvette said. “Multiple times.”
Unwilling to accept that, Heath leveled his most intimidating glare on her. “You’ve gotten awfully lippy.”
Both men looked at her, Heath with anger, Cannon with support. “I’m fed up, Heath. How else can I say it? We’re done and there’s nothing else to talk about.”
“You sure you want to take that tone?” He ignored Cannon and focused only at her. “After everything?”
When Cannon tightened, she put a hand on him to let him know she could handle it. Sure, she was shaking. Mortified. Nervous. But she would not let Heath cow her. “I’ll take whatever tone is necessary for you to understand.”
Heath started to take a step closer and Cannon moved into his path. “No.”
Around him, Heath said, “I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than he ever could. You might want to remember that.”
Her lips felt stiff, her eyes burning. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Yeah, right.” His mocking gaze went to Cannon. “She tell you all about her hang-ups?”
“That’s none of your business,” Yvette said.
“Far as I can tell,” Cannon added, “she’s perfect.”
Heath went red faced with rage—a rage he aimed at Yvette. “So you’re f**king him?”
She flinched at his raised voice. If she looked, would everyone in the place be staring at them?
“Whoa.” Cannon moved her behind him. “That’s enough.”
“Fuck you, too!”
As she’d seen him do before, Heath went from zero to eighty in the blink of an eye.
“Here’s the thing,” Cannon said, still calm with a quiet authority that unnerved Heath more than a shouting match ever could. “You’re not going to talk to her alone. Not today, not ever. If you want to talk to her at all, it’ll be when you’re calm, and I’ll be there. Even then, it’s only if Yvette agrees. Right now, she doesn’t.”
