Page 4 of Back in the Saddle

And I went out and had wings and beers while watching the Cardinals with that crew once, and he was there.

Other than that, and the mad crush I had on him from not-so-afar, this guy did not factor in my life.

“What I’m doing has nothing to do with you,” I told him.

“Wrong again,” he retorted.

I was losing patience.

No surprise, since I wasn’t the most patient being on the planet, or even in the top ninety-nine percent (and on my bad days, such as now, I occupied more of the lower point-three-percent bracket).

“How do you figure that?” I snapped.

“I take it you haven’t read the Rock Chick books either.”

The Rock Chick books were novels written about all his buds’ courtships (though, not his, obvs).

I know, weird.

But true.

They also apparently stood as warning signals to Raye, Luna, Harlow and me about our futures.

Which would normally lead one to diving right in.

I’d meant to, but what could I say?

I wasn’t a reader.

Then again, so far, none of the girls had read them.

Topping that, the one I wanted (the one I was shockingly currently with) didn’t want me.

I didn’t confirm I hadn’t read the books.

I didn’t say anything at all.

He hadn’t moved from his cool-scary-guy crossed ankles/arms lean against my car (and I hoped his fine ass didn’t put a dent in my fender—because he was tall and built, and muscle like his had to have some heft to it), so I mimicked him, without the crossed ankles and leaning parts.

Okay, so I just crossed my arms on my chest.

“We adopt one, we adopt all,” he stated. “Raye came into the family, now you’re all under our protection.”

“That’s sweet and all?—”

He interrupted me.

Again.

“It’s not sweet. We’ve been through this shit before. It’s compulsory.”

Compulsory?

Screw that.

I didn’t need some hot guy thinking I was an obligatory pain in his ass.

“Consider yourself let off the hook when it comes to me,” I offered.

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