Page 74 of Kneeling to Candy

Punk looks at me, his smile growing wider. “No shit? Congratulations, my man.” His smile falls, his expression somber. “Or should I be giving you my condolences? Seeing as you’re a dead man walking.” He breaks out into a fit of giggles at his own joke, like the annoying pain-in-the-ass he is.

I roll my eyes, taking his ribbing. Punk’s not exactly wrong. There will be a blowout. Though I’m hoping the make-up sex will be worth the war.

Ziggy shakes his head at me disapprovingly, muttering, “You’re in so much trouble.”

His opinion means squat. This is happening—approval or not.

As we clear the room of Candy’s belongings, we move on to the bigger pieces. We’re in the middle of maneuvering her dresser into the hallway when we run into a bit of trouble. It’s a doublewide, heavy piece of solid oak furniture. Even with the drawers removed, it weighs a shit-ton. It’ll look nice among my furnishings, blending us together perfectly, as long as we can haul the beast to its new spot.

“Pivot. Pivot. Pivot!” Punk directs, acting like the foreman of our motley crew.

Ziggy drops his end of the dresser in an angry huff. “Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!”

Tank and I are laughing at Ziggy’s Friends’ reference when a little feminine gasp catches us off guard.

The four of us snap to attention, looking down the hall where the sound came from.

Red stands at one end, covering her mouth with her hand in shocked disbelief.

“Um.” I swallow the thick ball of dread in my throat. The danger heading my way has suddenly become very real.

No turning back now.

“Hi, friend.” My voice comes out higher than normal for my ragged vocal cords. I clear my throat, steadying my nerves before trusting myself to speak again. “You’re back early.”

Red drops her hand from her mouth, bewildered. “I forgot my phone. Reaper doesn’t like me going anywhere without it.”

“Completely agree with him.” I nod, attempting to be nonchalant as I lean against Candy’s dresser—the dresser I’m stealing from her old roommate’s bedroom.

Nothing out of the ordinary to see here.

Red looks between all of us, the dresser, and the open doors between our suites. She shakes her head at me, sympathy in her sad eyes. “Shoot, Butch. I really liked you.”

Liked? As in past tense?

Am I that screwed?

For a fleeting second, I consider telling the guys to retreat, returning Candy’s things to her old space. I quickly dismiss the notion. This is what I want. She and I are meant to be—I’m moving things along.

The leggy redhead must see the determination in my expression. She releases a resigning sigh. “You’re good for her. But you know she’s going to tan your hide, right?”

“That’s what I told him,” Ziggy pipes in, throwing me under the bus.

“Traitor,” I mumble at my best friend.

With a shake of my head, I turn my attention away from Ziggy and lock eyes with Tank. He motions for me to move out of his way.

“Go, bro!” He grunts, lifting the heavy dresser up by himself. “Time to hustle.”

As Red hurries off to go tattle on me to Candy, I race back into her old suite in search of anything I may have overlooked. I’ve got about five minutes max before my angry goddess comes and wails on my ass—literally.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CANDY

“Go easy on him,” Red pleads with me. “He seems to be in that love-struck phase. You know, the one where dudes do stupid things with only the best intentions in mind but still somehow fuck it up?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, confused, as I let Red lead me into our room, with Ebony following close behind us.

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