Page 52 of Arm Candy Warrior

“I’m yours, okay? We’re a team,” I state, reinforcing it for him. Not because I’m playing an edge, but because I truly mean it. “I can certainly restrain myself if you need me to,” I say. “Let’s just not take it so far next time,” I hedge. The last thing we need is Johnny forcing Magnum in here to fuck me again.

Warmth simmers in Johnny’s light blue eyes. “I was so, so wrong, Kyla. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

“I think you’re just lost,” I tell him truthfully. “You need someone to talk to who’s apart from everything going on. Open up to me. You know I don’t want to just be the girl who’s holding onto your arm every night like I’m some model. I want in. Let me in,” I plead.

For the next few hours, Johnny spills some secrets to me. He pulls a blanket off the edge of the couch and holds me to him. It’s like an exorcism off his cold, dark heart. Someone who’s truly good, but who’s been forced into something bad. He tells me about the people he’s killed at his father’s behest. About the conflict he always feels when it comes to his father. He pours every last part of his soul out to me, and I soak it in through my pores, sharing the burden with him.

By the end of the night, we’ve melded into one person, and I’ve suddenly gained a whole new insight into how Big Daddy K ticks. His son isn’t spared the gory details of his treatment of others. He’s manipulated everyone. He uses dirt he has to get what he wants. He’s a sick, sick person, and how Johnny was able to escapesomeof his monstrous ways is beyond me.

That isn’t to say Johnny’s an angel. He’s not. He loves the Crew. He loves his life. There’s no getting around that. He’ll be forever tethered to them in more ways than one.

But there’s a chance he could survive without them, and that’s what I’m banking on.

21

Johnny and I fall asleep on the sofa. In the middle of the night, he moves us to the bed where we lie with one another until the first rays of sun poke through the curtains in his room. I get out of bed, stretching, making sure not to disturb Johnny and his angelic, sleeping face. I don’t know how he’ll react this morning to telling me things he probably didn’t mean to. Though, I’m glad he did. Now, I’m one hundred percent certain it will take a lot for Johnny to ever defy his father. The manipulation, the puppet strings, it’s far too deep. It’s for the best if we don’t take our relationship further.

I slip out of his suite. Different guards line the hall in front of the elevator, and my stomach tightens. I need to find Magnum and talk to him. Prolonging the inevitable will just make me queasy. Wordlessly, I take the elevator down to my new floor. Instead of stopping at my door on the right, I turn to the left. Looks like I’ll get the chance to see his apartment after all. I bite down on my lip and knock on the door.

I stand there in Johnny’s oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats. I run my hands through my hair as I wait for him to answer—if he’s even home. I’m about to turn and hide in my place for the foreseeable future, but at the last second, I decide to knock louder.

I step back when he pulls it open. He stands in front of me in low-slung joggers. Black, of course. Rivulets of sweat drip down his naked chest. His damp copper hair stuck to his head. My stomach tumbles over itself. Magnum always looks so put together, so to see him like this is…captivating to say the least. Jaw-dropping even. Then again, he saw every last inch of me last night, so he still owes me.

He takes a step back, allowing me access to his space. As I thought, the neutral bones of the apartment are there. Light walls. Same silver finishes. However, Magnum’s motif is darker. Everything he’s added is either black or dark blue. The perfect contrast.

The door clicks shut behind me, so I turn. “I just wanted to say…” I pop up on my toes. Never in a million damn years did I ever think I’d have to have a conversation like this. “…I don’t know, I guess. Um…”

“It’s okay,” Magnum says.

“No, no, it’s not. Johnny pulled a gun on you last night, and that was just—” My mind works to try to find a word other than insane, but it keeps getting hung up there.

“Areyouokay?” Mag asks. His hazel-green eyes penetrate through my hardened exterior like usual.

“Great,” I say, smiling. “Everything’s fine. I just thought we should have a conversation since Johnny ordered you to have sex with me last night. And you know, that you, in general, saw me buckass naked.”

Magnum’s eyes turn molten. He doesn’t allow his stare to move lower, but it feels like he’s undressing me with his gaze, anyway.

“Thanks for, you know, fornotdoing that,” I say. I eye his perfectly chiseled chest. “Not that sex with you would be bad. It’s probably good. It’s just—”

His lip quirks. “Having your boyfriend demand you fuck someone in front of him isn’t your cup of tea?”

“Right.” I say, smiling, and glad that we’re on the same page. “Not my cup of tea. Nor would I imagine it’s yours, but stranger things have happened.”

I start to tremble. I can put all the false bravado I can muster on, but it doesn’t change the fact that what happened in Johnny’s suite last night was scary as fuck. Also, these feelings for Johnny aren’t just going to go away even though I know they’re a terrible idea. I can’t share it with Brawler. Not even with Oscar. Magnum is the only one who knows aboutallof them.

“Come here,” he says, beckoning me forward.

I blink up at him and cock my head to the side.

He gestures his fingers for me to come closer.

I eye his sweaty chest. There’s a barbell and bench in the corner, the likely culprit of Magnum looking this damn sexy this morning.

“Come on, you’re not a stranger to sweat,” he says, moving forward himself. We meet in the middle, and he puts his arms around my shoulders, holding me to him. “My Grams used to say that hugs could cure almost anything. It’s less about the hug and more about the human connection.”

I close my eyes, allowing myself to be held in his arms. It’s tense at first, but then I relax more and more, and my own grip on him strengthens, holding him to me. His grandmother was on to something. “You should start a Share-A-Hug business,” I tell him. “You’re really good at it.”

“And miss out on looking all badass?”

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