Page 136 of Nothing to Fear

A broad black curtain at the head of the room fluttered. What were they hiding back there?

The lights died only to rise again with flashing colors and strobes scattering across the ceiling of the massive space. Shit, they couldn’t be a permanent feature. Why would a cold warehouse need—maybe they had rave parties there or something.

“Whoa, someone called the professionals,” Tripp said, slinging an arm around Roxie and crossing one ankle over the other. “You go full power, baby.”

Tripp kissed her head and wandered off to join a woman from another team who’d been gesturing at him. Actually, there were more than a few. Even those not gesturing seemed mesmerized by him. Guy sure could work it. And he thought Buoy worked fast? Could there be a cat fight? Roxie scampered over to a group near the vast entrance and…

Darroch.

She hadn’t seen him, not at first, but he was there, three stations down with the Breckenridge Intimates team. In a cruel twist, he spotted her just a second later. She wasn’t ready, didn’t know what to say. Should she say something? Go over there—she couldn’t. Closing her eyes to erase the view, all she could do was pretend he wasn’t there. No one in this building was an ex. No one in the building made her laugh and shared her bed and—damnit.

This was never going to work.

Leaving their bay, she went backstage to the water cooler. That was all she needed, a drink, a moment, she’d pull it together. It didn’t matter that he was there, she’d ignore him, forget him.

Full of gusto, she whirled around and—someone body-blocked her.

“Jesus,” she gasped as water sloshed out of the cup onto both of them.

“Sorry!”

“Darroch!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You can’t just sneak up on—” She frowned. “What’s that smell?”

“Smell?”

She groaned when she figured it out. “Oh, man, it’s you, isn’t it? Why do you have to do that? You always do that.”

Unable to look at his face, she heard the smile in his words. “What do I do?”

“You can’t ambush a woman just going about her life. It’s not right. You know it’s not right. I’ve told you before and—walking around, cornering us, attacking us with that masculine, over-powering—you have to stop. Just stop being…”

What? Hot? Not like he could do much about that and the scent. It was like wild, irresistible pheromones, did the guy release them on purpose? Either way, he didn’t have to top it off with the deodorant and cologne and… himness.

“You’re the only person on the planet with the cure.”

And that swagger was enough to wake her up. “No.” Sickness narrowed her throat. “I’m doing it again, how do I always…? What an idiot—”

“We need to talk. I need to talk. You need to listen, baby, I’ve—”

“No,” she said, tossing the cup into the trash then backing off. “I don’t want to talk, I’m over this—”

“I’m not over it.” He caught her arm, and in her pulling it away, her back hit the wall. “I’ll never be over it. I’ll never be over saying I’m sorry, never be over making it up to you. Whatever it takes, I’m going to prove to you just how sorry I am.”

“You can’t because I won’t believe it.”

Except when his fingertips touched her waist, she could feel him getting closer and was struck immobile. It wasn’t fear, she didn’t fear him. The worst part was she missed him, missed this, being near to him, adored by him. What she’d thought was real, wasn’t. What else didn’t she know? If he could lie to her about something so huge, what else could he be lying about?

“I miss you, Cherry. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, you’re all I think about.”

“What difference does it make if you’re tired or hungry? We won’t be together either way.” Closing her eyes, she checked herself. “Not that we were ever together.”

“Strike two, Cherry, I—”

“Strike two?” Anger landed her gaze on his. “Try three, four, and five too. No. Some things are unforgiveable.” Forgiveness is a choice. Shit. Did Roxie have to be in her brain right then? “I don’t forgive. I won’t forget. No.”

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