Cannon (A Step Brother Romance #3) Read online

  "I've been looking out for you every day," I say, ignoring her dig about what happened between the two of us. All I can think about is the fact that she's standing in front of me, dressed like she is and that I want to rip those goddamned clothes off her. What I don't want to do is follow her around like a fucking puppy dog all night while guys throw themselves at her.

  That is the fucking definition of a high-risk situation, because I'll have to put my fists on the first guy who lays a finger on her. Anger management skills be damned.

  "It's Sapphire's birthday. And you're not actually my boss, you know," she says. I smell her perfume, jasmine and something else that hints of the tropics, and I want to drink in her scent. I have to remind myself what a total and complete fucking brat she's being. I don't have to remind myself for long, as it turns out, because she opens her mouth again. "You're my bodyguard. That's it. You work for me, not the other way around."

  She says the word bodyguard with disdain, like she's better than me somehow, and anger surges through me. And then I think I see the flicker of something else on her face – regret? -- and for a second, I want to grab her and pull her toward me and tell her to stop screwing around and kiss me, because everything she just said is total bullshit.

  But fuck it, I've got my pride. "You're being a total -- "

  "Bitch?" Addy interrupts.

  "You said it, not me."

  Addy's jaw clenches and she looks at me, anger flashing in her eyes. "Don't worry, bodyguard," she says, the word hanging heavy on her tongue. "I'll behave completely professionally with you from now on."

  "Fine," I say, affecting a British accent. "Where will madam be off to this evening?"

  "I don't like you," she says, grabbing her purse. She's lying. I know she is. And this whole fight is manufactured bullshit. It's not real. But I also know that it's easier for the both of us if we pretend. It's easier if we hate each other. It's for the best.

  "I don't like you either, Addy-girl," I say, following her out the door. Her hips sashay as she walks in her too-high-to-be-safe heels, and when she tosses her hair over her shoulder again, I have to clench my fists at my sides to keep from grabbing it and yanking her toward me.

  I'm not lying when I say I don't like her. Riding down the elevator with her as she looks to the side, pointedly ignoring me, I realize it with growing certainty. I definitely don't like her. Like is the wrong L-word to use when it comes to Addy.

  FOUR YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS AGO

  "Let me see them," Grace says, grabbing at my journal. "Come on, Addison."

  "No way." I grip the notebook tightly in one hand, swatting at her with the other. "It's private."

  "Fine," she says. "I can always guess your secrets anyway. Is it about a boy?"

  I exhale heavily. "No, of course not."

  Grace wrinkles her nose. "You aren't interested in anyone? What about that singer, the one you toured with? Not the older guy. The other one, the nice one, the one your age?"

  "Nick?" I ask. "He's gay."

  "Is he?"

  "He's not out yet, but yeah."

  "You're boring," Grace says, sniffing. "Have you heard from Hendrix?"

  "No. Why would I hear from him?" My voice catches in my throat. I haven't heard from him in months. I don't know where he is now. He graduated from Marine Corps training last month, and I didn't go. No one did, even his own father.

  We had an event, a big country music one that I had to go to as part of my contract. The event was Hendrix's father's excuse, but I think really the Colonel just didn't want to go. I'm not sure if his father was disappointed in Hendrix for joining the Marines, or secretly intimidated by the fact that he joined and actually completed training.

  I think he expected Hendrix to show back up on the front doorstep a few weeks into training, because he'd dropped out or was kicked out.

  I think that's what I expected, too. That's what I hoped. And then each week passed, and it didn't happen.

  "I don't know, Addison," Grace says. "You guys are like BFFs. I figured you'd hear from him. Is he done training?"

  "I have no idea," I say, shrugging. Acting like it's no big deal. "What do you mean, we're BFFs? We hardly talk."

  Grace cocks her head to the side and studies me carefully. "Addison Stone, you and Hendrix are besties, whether you want to admit it or not."

  I roll my eyes. "This is a bo-ring conversation. Why don't we talk about something more interesting. Like your love life, for example?"

  Grace blushes, and I immediately sit up. "Why are you blushing?" I ask. "You met someone."

  "No, he's nobody. He's really…not my type."

  "As in, he's normal?"

  "Screw you, Addison," she says. But she's smiling. Come to think of it, I've seen her smiling a lot more than usual lately.

  "I don't want to talk about it," she says. "It's not going anywhere. We're just hanging out. Anyway, what are you scribbling in your journal?"

  "Songs."

  "Ooh, show me," she says. "You never sing for me anymore."

  "Because the studio is writing all my music now," I say, shrugging. "It's not so fun anymore. It's more like a job, so it's kind of lame now. Anyway, they're nothing."

  PRESENT DAY

  "Finally!" Sapphire yells in my face. "I didn't think you'd grace us with your presence, even for my birthday, since you've become a complete recluse and gone into hiding!" She grabs my shoulders and kisses me on each cheek twice, her extra-pretentious air kiss, before she takes my hand and leads me into the club. The music is irritatingly loud and the base sends vibrations through the floor that make it feel like it's traveling through my body.

  The club is packed, and Hendrix is behind me, his hand on the small of my back as he guides me through the crowd. His touch does the same thing to me it always has – it sends a thrill of arousal rushing through me, and I immediately think of what it felt like when he ran his hands over my naked flesh. Part of me wants to just stop, right here, and spin around in his arms.

  Someone gets too close to me, and Hendrix puts his forearm up to protect me. I want to tell Hendrix that I'm sorry for the morning after. And the whole week. And for being a complete bitch. I've wanted to tell him that a hundred times this week. I even knocked on his door once, but stopped, my fist frozen in mid-air, unable to follow through.

  The smart part of me knows that what happened between Hendrix and I was colossally stupid. But so is this tonight, going out to a club with my old friends. Maybe part of me wants to get a reaction from Hendrix.

  I can't continue with him, the way it has been, silent between us, our own private two-person cold war. I want something to happen, even if it's a goddamned explosion, fireworks, a fight that goes nuclear.

  As soon as Sapphire air-kisses me, I remember how fucking awkward it was for me before, going out with them while they partied and got stoned and acted so damn pretentious. Why did I used to think this was fun, anyway? Lounging around on a chaise in my makeup and short dress in a roped-off VIP area while my friends laugh and people in the crowd snap photos that will wind up on the cover of a tabloid? It's risky.

  We're not even here for ten minutes before Hendrix leans over and yells in my ear. "Are you about fucking finished here?" he asks. "You've made an appearance. You need to get out of here before anything gets out of hand."

  Sapphire leans over and yells in your ear. "Your bodyguard is way too over-protective," she says. "You need to loosen up, have a little fun. Besides, there's someone here who wants to say hi to you."

  Jared. He's flanked on either side by two of his douchebag friends, and my heart sinks in my throat as I look at him. He walks straight toward me, but Hendrix steps between us.

  "Down, boy," Sapphire says, making a barking sound. I could punch her right now. Hell, I could punch Jared right now.

  "Call off your attack dog, Addison," Jared says. "I just want to wish Sapphire a happy birthday."

  "Hendrix," I say, my voice tight. Hendrix doesn't move, and I sta