“That’s good.” Just because it was good didn’t make it okay that he’d missed being where he’d promised.
“Sometimes my job gets in the way. Your job gets in the way. That’s how it goes,” he pointed out.
“My job doesn’t have groupies.” She traced one of the flowers on her comforter with her fingertip.
He frowned, his expression hard. “Maybe not, but you’ve got an asshole cop friend.”
Whoa. What the heck?
“Don’t talk about Wayne like that. He hardly compares to the girl feeling up your muscles.” Velma glanced to the balcony, ignoring the pang of hurt in her heart.
Brek tugged her chin back so she faced him. He squared his jaw. “I’ll avoid the groupies. You avoid him. He made it clear tonight he wants to move in on what’s mine. I’m not puttin’ up with that.”
Velma gasped. “What?”
“Didn’t stutter. Wayne’s a giant dick with a little prick. It’s bad enough he’s got a badge. I’ll keep the groupies at a distance, you keep that asshole away.”
She didn’t particularly care about Wayne, but he was a friend and Brek did not get to barge in and tell her whom she could and couldn’t see. She met his stare in a silent standoff.
Her phone rang again. She reached for it.
Pam.
“It’s your mom.” Her words sounded scratchy as she held up the screen.
He didn’t answer it, instead holding it until it stopped buzzing. “I’ll call her back after we sort this out.”
Velma crossed her arms under her breasts and met his stare. “You’re being totally ridiculous about everything. Wayne’s a family friend. I’m not banning him from seeing me.”
“He’s afamily friendwho wants you for himself.” Brek tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood.
“That’s really unfair,” Velma said, the words soft.
Brek headed toward the bedroom door. He paused. “I don’t trust him. Guys like that weasel their way into your life and screw everything up.”
“Why are you acting like this?” she asked, leaning on her elbow. “Jealousy? You’ve got to be kidding. It’s not like that with him.”
Brek dropped his hands to his waist. “Not asking for a lot, just that you respect what we have enough to send him packing.”
He dipped his head and the muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Brek…” she started to say, but he was already heading for the door, her phone pressed against his ear.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Night Before Claire & Dean’s Wedding
They’d placed bets on how long it would take to get tossed out of Hank’s Bar during Claire and Dean’s coed bachelor-slash-bachelorette party. “They” being Jase, Eli, Heather, and the bride and groom. In other words, everyone was in on the bet but Brek and Velma.
Brek took a pull of his Coors. Eli lounged on the other side of the booth. Dean and Claire wouldn’t get off the damn dance floor—they slow danced even to the fast songs. And Heather and Velma had taken up residence on a pair of stools along the bar top to gab.
When Brek had asked Dean what he wanted to do for his bachelor party, this was not what he’d had in mind.
Then again, nothing in his life lately was what he’d had in mind.
“You know what we should do next?” Jase asked.
“I bet you’re gonna tell me.”
