Page 14 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

I saw the tiniest, barely-there grin tug at his lips before he dropped his head to hide it. He took a second to clear his throat and control his features before looking at me again. “What I said to you the other day wasn’t cool. I crossed a line, and for that, I’m sorry. I acted like—”

“A douche-weasel?” I supplied.

That grin came back, but it was missing it’s typical snark and animosity. “I was going to say prick.”

I harrumphed and crossed my arms over my chest, my stance a tad defensive since I didn’t trust whatever it was happening between us just then. “I like my word better. It’s more colorful.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he said on a chuckle. “But still, I’m really sorry, Layla. I just wanted to tell you that.”

“Oh.” To say I was taken back by his apology would have been like saying I only had a teensy crush on every member of NSync as a kid. It was so much more than that. For crying out loud, I’d cut out pictures of their faces from magazines and taped them all over the walls of my bedroom in all the different foster houses I’d lived in. To anyone who came in, it would have looked like I was a serial killer with cutouts of my victims everywhere. It was that bad. I still lost my shit a little bit every time I heard “Tearin’ Up My Heart,” and I wasn’t too proud to admit I was more than a little heartbroken when it came out that I’d never have a shot with Lance Bass in my lifetime or any other. But given our history, I didn’t know how to take this show of remorse, no matter how genuine it seemed. “Okay. Well...thank you?”

He arched a quizzical brow, his tone laced with humor as he asked, “Was that a question, or a real ‘thank you’?”

“I’m not totally sure,” I admitted. “You’ve kind of thrown me off. I’m not sure if you’re being serious or if this is just a new game I don’t know the rules to yet.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “No game. I promise.”

A bit of the rigidness melted out of my spine, and I felt myself relax just a bit as I told him, “All right, that was a real ‘thank you’ then.”

“How would you feel about a truce,” he asked, but before I had a chance to answer, another person came walking into the mailroom.

“Hey there, gorgeous. How’re you doing?”

The reply I was about to give Jude died on my tongue when the guy from the floor above mine, the very one I’d been flirting with for months, smiled brightly in my direction.

I suddenly felt like a girl standing all alone in the middle of the high school cafeteria when, out of nowhere, the most popular guy in the whole school just came up and said hi to me.

A ridiculously giddy smile pulled so hard at my face, my cheeks started to hurt. “Hey, Bax. I’m good. How’s it going with you?”

He hit me with that dimpled grin of his that made my belly flutter the very first time I saw it. “It’s definitely going better now,” he answered, flirtation dripping from his words and that come-hither look he was giving me right then.

I was just about to respond with something equally flirty and totally clever when a throat cleared, bursting our little moment like a soap bubble. I’d almost forgotten Jude was still in the room with us until he made his presence known.

“Hey there, Georgie boy. How’s tricks?” The words he used were totally harmless, even slightly neighborly, but the tone he used gave me the impression that he wasn’t at all happy with Bax’s sudden appearance. It was the same tone he used with me during every single interaction except this last one we’d just had. I had to admit a small sense of relief that I wasn’t theonlyone in the building Jude Kingsley seemed to dislike.

“It’s Bax,” he gritted out slightly. His jaw clenched, but other than that, he kept his expression congenial. “And things are good, man. How’s it going with you?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” His voice grew closer as he closed the distance between us, turning the little twosome between me and Bax into an unwelcome threesome. Then the son of a bitch actually threw his arm over my shoulders like we were the best of friends, and continued. “Not that I have anything to complain about, if you know what I mean.” I nearly swallowed my tongue at the suggestiveness in his voice as he pulled me closer to him and shot Bax a wink.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed under my breath as I fought to put some much-needed space between us. But the stupid jerk’s arm was like a steel trap. Talk about impressive strength. Gah!

Bax gave me an odd look, his brow furrowing as eyes darting between me, Jude, and that freaking arm he had around me. “Are you guys...” He trailed off and pointed between us.

“What? No! Oh God,” I started to crack up. “God, no. No way.”

Jude’s arm tightened, cutting off my hilarity. “Ah, don’t be like that, pumpkin. It hurts when you deny our love.”

I shot him a killing look and elbowed him right in the gut as hard as I could, getting immense joy out of the pained grunt he let out and taking a big step to the side to get away from him.

“He’s only joking around. He’s not serious,” I said to Bax, laughing awkwardly. “He thinks it’s funny to piss me off.”

“Ah. Okay.” That smile of his returned. “Yeah, I thought that was weird. I mean, don’t you two hate each other?”

“Yes,” I answered quickly.

“Hate’s a strong word,” Jude said at the same time. He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “It’s just how our relationship works.”

I narrowed my eyes viciously. “If byrelationship, you mean me silently wishing you’d choke to death on your food, then yes, that’s definitely how things work between us.”

---