“Do you need a fucking minute or do you want to hear about the shit that went down?” Turner asks me, and, surprisingly, he sounds a lot less irritated than he did a minute ago. When I glance over at him, I see his gaze flicking between Sydney and me. Well, fuck him. If he thinks it's that easy to change your heart, then he obviously doesn't care about Naomi the way he says he does. Just because Sydney is hot as fuck doesn't mean I'm dropping the Naomi thing. A hard cock isn't enough. Well, it wouldn't be enough if she hadn't just shot me down. I grit my teeth at the memory and shake my head.
“Of course I want to know. What the fuck is it now?”
“Yes, please, do tell,” Sydney says, and her voice makes it really, really difficult to concentrate. I'm not normally the type of guy to run off and take care of things, if you know what I mean, but Goddamn it. This is absolutely insane. If any of my friends had come to me and described something like this, I would've accused them of shooting up and downing an entire bottle of Viagra. So not normal. “What the fuck is it now? I have a really hard time imagining you guys haven't done anything to deserve this.”
“Do you have a problem with me, Sydney?” Turner snarls at her, moving close, getting in her face. “Trey didn't do shit. He's the fucking victim here, Goddamn it. Show a little respect.” When I see his boots scrape the front of her red heels, I just see black. One second, I'm sitting down. The next, I'm up and pulling Turner back by his shirt. He stumbles for a second, but only because I think he's confused. If I didn't expect to do it, why should he? As soon as he figures out I've touched him though, he's spinning around and a fist is flying at my face.
“Turner!” Naomi shouts, stepping between us and grabbing his punch before he can hit me in the jaw. It's an impressive move, catching someone else's fist in your own. Turner pulls back as much as he can, but the two of them end up slamming together, chest to chest. Instead of being angry, like you'd think, they look fucking starstruck. Honestly, it kind of makes me sick. Or maybe that's just the vertigo. The world spins around me for a second before I steady myself with a hand on the wall. Turner and Naomi are still gazing into one another's eyes, and I'm about to tell her I can fight my own battles, when I pass the fuck out.
Holy baloney motherfucking crap.
I sweep my hands down my face and pull them back, watching as my fingers curl involuntarily. I'm sitting on the edge of a strange man's bed, a strange man who just happens to be the hottest fucking piece of ass I have ever seen in my adult life.
“Oh, hearts on fire,” I whisper, pretending to fan myself. It's a bit pathetic really, considering said sexy dude is passed out next to me. Covered in sweat. Dark hair in his face. Lips twisted in this deliciously wicked little half-smile. Wonder what he's dreaming about? If it features me and my tits bouncing while I ride his ass … Well, then I'm cool with it.
“Seriously?” Turner asks me, raising one perfectly manicured yet somehow still masculine brow. How, why, that is even possible, I don't know, but fuck the dude for being too frigging perfect. Irritating little twat sucker. I try not to be too mad at him though, considering the adorable Instagram worthy reunion he just shared with Trey. My brother might be passed out in the next room, but at least he has his own little team of doctors and nurses to wait on him hand and foot. Money can buy happiness sometimes, right? Or at least somebody who will smile while they clean out your bed pan. But man, that Ryker guy, he knows his shit. Not only is my brother here, with us, safe, but the dude is putting together a sort of family protection plan thing for everybody else's family members. I hope Indecency has a new album in the works because this type of security doesn't come cheap. They're going to have to write another dozen scream-y, angst-y, bad boy songs to pay for this shit.
“Seriously what, Turner?” I ask him, looking down at Dax McCann's sleeping face. I hear he got rabbit-punched by a tornado. Ouchies.
“You find Dax attractive? Like for real, for real?” I roll my eyes to the ceiling and then drop them down to Naomi's face. She is absolutely gorgeous. I'd feel threatened if I was inclined toward that sort of thing. But then, it all comes back to stripping. I mean, I've been doing it for like ten years now, ever since I was sixteen (and yes, I get that that's illegal, but I had a fake ID so get over it). Too many pretty girls, hot bodies, broken dreams. It's hard to intimidate me now.
“You are a strong, powerful woman with a solid career and a beautiful voice. Are you absolutely positive you want to waste that on this idiot?” I ask, gauging her reaction. Asking questions you know could be controversial is a good way to get to know someone. I get a smile. Thank God. So far, I like both Lola and Naomi. Things are looking up for the guys here. Now we just need to find someone for Trey and Jesse and we're golden. Behind every great man is a patient woman with a bigger set of balls.