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  Olivia cast a knowing look and gave her a condescending pat on the shoulder. “You’re such a good girlfriend, alleviating his worries like that. So giving.”

  Alyson laughed and took another sip of her drink—a martini with two olives. It was the closest to a “girlie” drink she would ever get. “I am, aren’t I?”

  It didn’t take long before her phone buzzed. She knew it was Jami without even having to look. “Hey,” she said sweetly, laying it on thick in anticipation of what was to come, and in hopes of minimizing the damage. “Did you like the picture I sent you?”

  Jami’s response was nothing short of expected. “Are you trying to get someone killed? Because I am this close to flying home right now and kicking the ass of every guy there just for looking at you.”

  Alyson laughed lightly and lowered her chin to her chest as she spoke. “Now, now, let’s not get carried away.”

  Jami growled. “There’s no such thing as getting carried away when I’m not there to make sure no one messes with my girl. I’m beginning to regret telling you to go out tonight.”

  Olivia tapped her on the shoulder and leaned in. “I’m going to go dance. Meet me when you’re done, and tell lover boy that I said hi and to go to bed. He’s cutting into girl time.”

  Alyson nodded in answer. Swiveling in her chair, she kept an eye on Liv as she wove her way onto the dance floor. Within seconds, she had two men pushing up on her from both sides. She shook her head. “Liv says hey,” she told Jami.

  “Is she behaving herself? She’s not getting you into trouble or anything?”

  “What kind of trouble could she possibly get me into?” Alyson asked, holding up a finger to Olivia, who was waving for her to hurry up and join her. “I’m a big girl, Jamison.”

  Jami sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know.” Alyson frowned as she picked up on a note of sadness in his tone.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Something? Try everything.” He sighed again, and she could almost picture him running his fingers through his dark shaggy hair.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Fucking Spencer and—you know what?” he said, catching himself. “I don’t want to spoil your night. We’ll talk about it when I get back.”

  Even over the phone, Alyson could sense how tense he was. Concerned, she asked, “Are you sure? If you need to talk, I’m here. Or I can wrap it up and head home and call you back.” Even though they had been going all day, she still had a lot of energy to burn. And, frankly, she was enjoying herself. She didn’t want to cut the night short, but she would if Jami needed her.

  “No, I don’t want you to do that. I mean,” Jami said quickly, “I do, but I’m a selfish bastard, and I hate the idea of other men looking at what’s mine, but you should have some fun. I know I’m not much fun keeping you cooped up all the time.”

  “That’s not true,” Alyson rushed out. “I love our time together.”

  “Yeah, but you also love spending time with Liv. I get it, babe, and I want you to do this. Have fun now, so I don’t have to feel guilty when I bind you to my bed later, because Lord only knows when I’ll let you leave it.”

  Alyson shivered at the mental images Jami’s words provoked. If only he were back now, then she could take him up on the offer. But he was right. She needed time with Olivia just as she needed time apart from him, as torturous as that was. “You’re right,” she told him. “But if you change your mind and decide that you do want to talk, you’ll call me, right?”

  “You’ll be the first person I call,” he assured her. “Don’t drink too much.”

  She was afraid to tell him that she probably already had. Everything was starting to look a little softer around the edges already, and she was nowhere close to hitting her limit for the night. “I won’t,” she said, even though she was fairly certain it was a lie. People didn’t go to a club to stay sober.

  They said their goodbyes, but as Alyson hung up and joined Liv she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever Jami had to tell her, it wasn’t good. In fact, if it had anything to do with Spencer, then she was certain that it wasn’t. But with miles of distance between them, she could only hope and trust that Jami had a handle on things, because she certainly didn’t have a handle on the crap that was happening in her life, and if both of their crap collided, it was going to turn into one hell of a mess.

  ***

  All he wanted was a grilled cheese and some orange juice, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. “What do you mean, my card was declined?” Jami stood opposite the cashier, a petite young girl that couldn’t have been more than eighteen. She looked up at him with a mixture of lust, fear, and regret.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s what it says. I’m supposed to cut up your card, but I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” She handed his Visa back to him, her hand lightly trembling.

  “Not a problem,” he said, handing her another one. “Here, try this one.”

  She smiled as if she were relieved or something, but that smile quickly vanished as she handed it back. “I’m sorry. This one is declined, too. Do you have another you’d like to try?”

  It took everything Jami had in him not to rip into her. It wasn’t her fault this had happened, but he had a nagging feeling on where to place the blame. Thankfully, he carried a little cash on him. No matter how many precautions he took, there was always a hitch. The first time he travelled, he hadn’t realized he needed to inform his bank that he would be out of town and, thinking that his card had been stolen, they’d blocked all his purchases and frozen his account. He’d learned the hard way, and now he didn’t take any chances. “Nope, I’ll just use cash,” Jami said shortly, handing her a twenty.

  She counted the change, casting occasional looks of pity at him. “Enjoy your breakfast,” she said, but it might as well have been a slap in the face because he felt like shit. Having his card declined was beyond embarrassing. Having two declined while everyone stared at him as if he were a lowlife criminal was humiliating. Of course, that part was probably totally imagined, but it didn’t put him anymore at ease. Spencer was going to pay for this.

  Deciding against eating in the common area where every judging eye was focused on him, Jami took his breakfast outside and found a quiet bench to sit on where he could eat in peace and not be stared at like a monkey in a cage. “Fucking Spencer,” he cursed under his breath as he shoved the corner of the sandwich into his mouth.

  A freshly trimmed lawn sprawled out before him, leading out to a tall fountain that spurted three tall jets into the air in graceful arcs. A couple of birds hopped around, chirping happily. The serenity of the scene made Jami long for home. This trip should have been the highlight of his career. He should be on top of the world. His was in love with an incredible woman who for some insane reason loved him back. He had the career he always dreamed of having. He was heading toward something great, but everything changed.

  As soon as Spencer told him what he’d done, the oppressive sensation of impending failure fell over him like a thick blanket. It was smothering him, and he had no one and nothing to help make it better. He’d gone against his better judgment and left Ally behind. Don was giving him the cold shoulder treatment ever since he asked him to leave his room last night. Apparently, he was broke, and he had no clue what he was going to do about Spencer and this whole fucked up situation. Tonight, he was expected to get up in that ring, in front of a sold out house, and do what he did best while every bone in his body felt like rubber. He just wanted to lie down, cover his head with a pillow, and block out the world.

  Just because he was big and strong on the outside, people expected that to reflect who he was on the inside. They failed to realize that he was a person too, just like everyone else. He could break under pressure just as easily as they could, and at the moment, he had a whole shitload of pressure resting on his wide shoulders. He didn’t have the first clue as to how he was going to help his friend. He’d been in and out of trouble
most of his life, but he’d always stayed out of the deep end. He’d stayed away from the big stuff, refused to get deeper than he had to, and that was the only reason he was able to walk away when he did without ending up in a body bag.

  This whole loan shark thing was way out of his realm of expertise. He was fucking terrified of how this might turn out, not only because Spencer’s life was on the line, but because soon, his would be, too. He would stick his neck out for those he cared about, even if they didn’t deserve it, because he didn’t know any other way to be.

  He just thanked God in heaven that Ally had her shit together, because, at the end of the day, he was going to need her to be his soft place to fall. Without that to look forward to, he wouldn’t be able to face what was coming.

  TEN

  Alyson woke up to a pounding headache and a crick in her neck… again. She was convinced that Liv’s frumpy old couch was going to be the death of her, and she decided she was going to tell her that when she heard the sound of her shuffling feet on the hardwoods as she made her way toward the kitchen.

  “If this is your idea of torturing me, then congratulations,” Alyson called out as she threw off her blankets and set her feet on the floor, “you have succeeded.” Her words died on her lips when she twisted around and set her eyes on a very shirtless, very attractive man standing a few feet away. “Who the hell are you?”

  His blond hair was a matted up mess, sticking out in every direction. His face was a mismatch of features that shouldn’t be attractive, but somehow the thick eyebrows, slightly crooked nose, and a sharp jawline worked. Alyson scanned over his thin frame decorated in myriad tattoos that blended together in such a way that she couldn’t make out any distinctive shapes. Except for the red and white Koi fish that wrapped around his bicep and appeared to be swimming when he lifted his arm to rub his hand over the top of his head. The small movement caused something small and shiny to catch the light, and Alyson’s mouth gaped open.

  “You have a nipple piercing.”

  “Two actually,” he said as one corner of his shapely lips slid up in a semblance of a smile.

  “And that’s not the only place he wears his jewelry.” Liv appeared behind him dressed in a long shirt Alyson had never seen her wear before. Falling down to the tops of her knees, it dwarfed her.

  Alyson blinked, hard, her mind trying to process what she was seeing. “You two slept together?” she asked incredulously.

  “Actually, we didn’t do much sleeping, did we, sweet cheeks?” The man Alyson certainly didn’t know and had never seen before in her life, lifted his arm and hooked Liv by the neck. Drawing her up against his bare chest, Alyson watched in abject horror as her friend was mauled in front of her. Then, when she was preparing to either call the police or go for the fire extinguisher, he released her. With a smack on her ass, he told them, “I’m going to go whip up my famous hangover breakfast.” He winked at Alyson then strolled into the kitchen.

  Stunned, Alyson looked to Liv, who was still standing in the middle of the doorway looking like she’d lost her damn mind, because she absolutely had, Alyson was certain of it. She said the first words that came to mind. “He cooks?”

  Liv blinked out of her ruminations and gave her a weak smile. “Sorry, I didn’t expect him to stay the night.” Sitting down with her on the couch, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  Alyson was at a loss for words. She tried to think back to last night, but the furthest she got was telling Jami she loved him before she hit the dance floor. There was a blur of lights and music and colorful drinks after that, but nothing concrete to latch onto. At least she hadn’t woken up next to a strange guy. Clearly, she didn’t have any answers, but maybe Liv did. “What the hell happened last night?”

  Pots, pans, and cabinet doors slammed in the kitchen, making Alyson and Liv flinch. Liv lifted her head and studied Alyson. “You don’t remember?” Alyson shook her head, and Liv got a funny look in her eyes. “Well, we danced,” she said—which was one of the last things Alyson remembered, so she nodded her head, “and we had some drinks. And then Jason and his cousin Umberto rolled up, and things got kind of crazy.”

  Alyson’s eyes narrowed with caution and a touch of fear. Who was Jason? And who in the world was Umberto? Oh, God, please don’t let Umberto be a sexy Latino player. She had a secret weakness for exotic sexy player types. In theory. She’d never actually had the chance to test out her hypothesis. “How crazy?”

  Liv shrugged and eased her head back again. “Nothing too serious. After you asked the DJ to play some merengue and did a little dirty dancing on the bar coyote ugly style, you did a couple of jello shots off a seriously hairy dude’s stomach and then pretty much passed out. But not before you flashed everyone your ta-tas and shouted that you were queen of the world.”

  Alyson gasped in horror. “No way!” she shouted. Her reaction was a cross between horror and indignation. “I would totally remember doing that.” Wouldn’t she? She scoured her blank mind for anything, even the smallest morsel of memory, but came up empty-handed. So she decided that, yes, she most definitely would. The alternative was just too horrible an idea to entertain. Today, denial was her friend. “Tell me you’re pulling my leg, Liv,” she said desperately.

  Olivia laid there with her eyes closed in total silence for what felt like ages. Alyson held her breath, staring her down, willing her to put her out of her misery and tell her she was lying. Jami was going to kill her. Cracking open her eyelids, Liv peaked at Alyson. Seeing her sheer desperation, her lips twitched, and then she burst into a fit of laughter. “You are so damn gullible! You should see your face right now.” Her eyes widened, and she clasped her hands together under her chin. In an angelic, mocking voice she said, “I would never do such a heinous thing. I’m too good and pure.”

  Alyson backhanded her in the stomach and slammed her back against the couch, huffing in irritation, making her vision whirl. “You are so not funny.”

  “Funnier than you, though.” Liv stuck out her tongue. Relaxing back again, she said, more subdued, “Seriously, though, you were a total bore. After you got off the phone, I tried to pull you out of whatever funk you were in, but no amount of booze could cut through whatever drama you have going on up there.” She swirled her finger at Alyson’s head. “And believe me, I made sure you got nice and boozed up.”

  Alyson’s face crinkled. She just bet she had. “So, nothing happened? No topless bar dancing? No Umberto?”

  “Oh,” Liv said with a fruity laugh, “there was an Umberto, all right.” Alyson raised her eyebrows in question. “Umberto was hot, smoking, and he was all about getting to the bottom of what made Alyson Blake tick, but even in a drunken haze, you, my loyal to a fault friend, could not be swayed. You are unswayable.”

  Alyson let her words settle in, and then slumped over in relief. “Thank God.”

  “Breakfast is served, Miladies.”

  Standing, Liv yanked the pillow from beneath Alyson’s head and slammed it over her face. “Time to eat, lazy bones.”

  Alyson groaned. She lay there for several more minutes listening to Liv and her… whatever she was calling him, move around the kitchen. She was so relieved to know that she hadn’t done anything unforgivable last night. Let that be a lesson to her not to drink like a fish again. Jami had warned her not to, and she’d done it anyway. Look where it got her—strung out on a dingy couch with a stranger who cooked her breakfast and a headache the size of Texas. Never again.

  Thinking of Jami, she picked up her phone intending to shoot him a good morning message when she stopped cold. Line after line of drunken texts stared back at her. Each one addressed to Jami—thank God—but each one more garbled than the last. There were pictures, too.

  Alyson threw her arm across her eyes and released a pained groan. Liv was wrong when she said that Alyson hadn’t flashed her “ta-tas,” because she had. She definitely had. It was a small blessing that Jami had been the one on the receiving end of her gene
rosity, but damn. What must he be thinking of her right now? There was no response from him, so he’d either decided to ignore her, which she had a hard time imagining him doing, or he hadn’t gotten her messages last night. With any luck, he hadn’t seen them yet, but he would. It was only a matter of time before he got out of bed and checked his phone.

  “Are you coming?” Olivia poked her head into the living room, raising her light eyebrows. “Jason makes some killer scrambled eggs, and I’m not sure where he found the bacon, but it’s delicious.” She licked a greasy thumb.

  Eggs were at the top of her list of inedible foods, but she had to admit that bacon sounded pretty good. Alyson’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food, even though she wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to keep it down. The room was swaying gently, and she hadn’t found her sea legs yet. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be right there.” She waved her on, took another minute to think about her actions and the possible consequences, and then forced herself to get up. Whenever Jami decided to call her back, she would need her strength.

  The sweet smelling aroma of crisp bacon filled the smoky air as Alyson entered the kitchen. She coughed by way of announcing herself and fanned the air. Olivia and the guy, who was apparently named Jason, looked up at her from the small two-seater bistro set pressed against the short stretch of wall opposite the L-shaped kitchen.

  “Sorry about the smoke,” he said, waving his fork in the air. “I didn’t realize the hood over the stove was broken, or I would have opened a window.”