“Whatever, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“Right behind you. Don’t eat my shoes, Tricksie Johansson.”

Tricksie barked as she ran to the door, wanting to leave, but Vaughn had to push her back as he opened the door. “Sorry, love bug, you can’t go.”

She whimpered as he went out, and he immediately ran right into something hard. Looking down, he saw his hallway was filled with boxes. “What the hell?”

“What?” Jensen said as the door across the hall opened, and Vaughn’s nemesis came out, her eyes widening when she met his gaze.

“You,” she gasped, her eyes going from surprised to slits, and he hated how attractive he found her as she stood in the middle of the hall all pissed off and shocked. It was always like that, though. Anytime he was around her, he thought she was a hundred shades of fucking hot. Even now, she was wearing a green sweater and sweat pants that had holes in them. Her hair was braided—even though her hair was too short to be braided, it looked fucking adorable. She had no makeup on and red splotches on her face, but he still found her delectable. She had something orange on her mouth that he suspected was Cheetos, and for some insane reason, he wanted to lick it off. Which was completely foolish. She’d just gotten him fined. He didn’t like her!

But even he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was hot.

Like a little bundle of sexy.

Get it together, Jo. You hate her!

With irritation in his voice, he growled, “You.”

Heat filled Vaughn from the tips of his fingers to the soles of his feet.

Anger, it was anger.

He was not turned on.

Not even in the least.

Not even the Cheetos that were stuck in her hair, close to her ear, were turning him on. He wasn’t that pathetic. She looked like roadkill, death, a carcass on legs, and Vaughn wasn’t into that. He was attracted to beautiful women. Women with long legs, big tits, and hot—all the time. That was his kind of woman, one who rolled out of bed and was sexy before he woke up. Okay, maybe that was a little overboard since no woman had ever been in his bed longer than it took for him to fuck her, but that was beside the point. He liked his women gorgeous, that is, if he was dating… Okay, forget all that. His three-legged dog was his woman, and he didn’t need anyone else. Nor would he be attracted to anyone else.

Yes. That was it.

But then, he really loved Cheetos; they were a guilty pleasure. And he really loved Brie’s tits in that slouchy green sweater. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra. And even for her size, Brie was packing some melons under that top. Wow, that sounded really sexist, and he wasn’t like that. He respected women, he did. He didn’t care, though, because he did not like Brie Soledad.

“Up here, buddy,” she called out, and his eyes whipped to hers. “Perv.”

He glared. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“So you deny staring at my tits? Trying to figure out if I have a bra on?”

His glare stayed in place. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being on to him. “No, actually, I was trying to figure out how you got a Cheeto in your hair.”

“By staring at my tits?” she asked dryly, and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Good Lord, enough with your tits.”

“Because it’s killing you that you don’t know if I have a bra on. You’re sick, you know that?”

“You’re the one bringing it up. You obviously want me to look at them. Are you that pathetic, you have to beg for attention?”

“Coming from the league’s biggest attention-whore? That’s rich.”

Vaughn’s eyes narrowed as Jensen drew a point in the air. “One for her.”

“Shut up,” he spat at Jensen before looking back at the fierce spitfire that he did not care for. “Yeah, okay, what are you even doing here?”

“Noneya!”

“Noneya? Who even says that?”

“Probably the same person that says ‘bookoo,’” his best friend supplied, which resulted in Vaughn glaring back at him.

“Who asked you?”

“Bookoo? What’s wrong with bookoo? I say that all the time,” Brie added, and Vaughn directed his distaste at her.

“That’s my word.”

Throwing him a dry look, she rolled her eyes. “You can’t own bookoo.”

“Yes, I can, and I do.”

“Then I own noneya.”

“Keep it, ’cause no one will give you anything for it.”

“Yes, they would,” she yelled back, but before Vaughn could say anything, Jensen was the voice of reason.

“Okay, John and Claire, maybe we should go before one of you attacks the other.”

Both Vaughn and Brie looked over at him, confused, before they both said at the same time, “John and Claire?”

“Breakfast Club,” he said, as if that answered their confusion, but Vaughn had no clue what was going on. “Come on, really? I thought that was perfect for this moment.”

“What? I’m not a princess,” Brie complained, and Vaughn finally got it. “I’m not any of them.”

“Well, I am a rebel. With no cares,” Vaughn said with a laugh, but it died off when he realized no one else was laughing.

“And I sure as hell don’t find him attractive or intriguing. Jesus, did you even watch the movie?” she accused with her face scrunched up.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fin—”

“Yes! Fine. We get it,” Jensen yelled, but they were too busy glaring at each other. “Jesus, you guys are like cats and dogs.”

“Enough with the analogies,” Vaughn shouted, breaking away from Brie’s intense gaze. “You’re not helping.”

“Can anything help?”

Rolling his eyes, he looked back at Brie, ready for round two, but she reached down for a box. “It’s been real, boys, but I’ve got things to do.”

She started to move, but he stood in her way. “What are you doing?”

“None—”

“Don’t noneya me. Are you moving in to my building?”