Was he raising his voice at me? My silence was his response, and it wasn’t what he was looking for. I could wait him out.
He definitely did raise his voice then. “Are you fucking serious? I’ve got a fight in three weeks. This is bullshit!”
I raised my eyebrows at him because I knew he wasn’t fucking talking to me like that. “I get that you’re pissed off,” I told him calmly, keeping my voice just level just barely, “but don’t talk to me like that.” Not if he wanted to keep all his teeth in his mouth.
“This is bullshit!”
Was it? Just as I opened my mouth to tell him to calm down, a big figure stepped right next to me and said in a voice I had never heard out of him before, “Mate, you keep raising your voice, and we’re going to have a problem.”
It was like he hadn’t seen him behind me or something, because the moment Shawn’s eyes flicked behind me to find who was speaking, he took a step backward. And that was the last thing I noticed then because I was too busy looking over my shoulder as well.
Jonah was staring straight through this moron with these intense eyes that I had only seen once or twice in my life, which said a lot because of who I had grown up around. What I had grown up around.
But Jonah’s expression was something else completely. Maybe because he was usually so easygoing and self-contained. I had seen him, from a distance, stare down opposing players during their games—matches, tests, whatever they called it—but this one….
I had to look away from him. I didn’t miss the way Shawn shuffled back another step before flushing red and basically mumbling, “Please, Lenny. I said I was sorry. I won’t use my elbows on anyone again.”
I didn’t need to look over to feel the intensity radiating from the man at my side, and it took a whole lot of self-control not to glance at Jonah but instead focus on this other imbecile. “Three and a half months and don’t ever step up to me like that again or use that tone of voice. You were warned, Shawn. You were told to stop, and you didn’t. So it’s three months and fourteen days. Are we clear?”
A big forearm brushed my arm, and I could hear Jonah breathing steadily.
Shawn gritted his teeth together, shook his head, and then he turned around and walked back out the way he’d come.
I glanced back at the Not Really a Fucker without trying to move my head so I wouldn’t get caught. I didn’t trust my facial muscles then. I didn’t trust myself, period, honestly.
Jonah was too busy watching Shawn leave to notice what I was doing. Those crazy focused eyes followed him until the door slammed shut. Only then did he speak again. “Is there anyone else here who talks to you like that?”
I was too busy taking in his mean-ass expression to reply with more than, “No.”
Jonah lowered his gaze, eyebrows still knit together; that mouth of his hard, eyes slightly narrowed, and I really hoped more than anything that my own eyes didn’t widen at the sight of his pissed-off face. But when his mean face immediately fell off—and I didn’t feel disappointed by it, not a lot anyway—those features turned into the ones I was familiar with. Normal, good Jonah. The one who had turned pink a few days ago when I called penises sad bananas.
Normal Jonah looked at me with only a hint of tightness at his jaw. “I didn’t mean to use that tone around you.”
I blinked up at him, still hearing the voice he’d used in my head. “Where did that come from?” I asked slowly, hoping that didn’t sound anything close to dreamy. Because I wasn’t… feeling that way. I wasn’t feeling any kind of way. Surprised. Impressed a little. That was it.
Okay, maybe even a little pleased he had stepped up beside me. Maybe. A little.
I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that. Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure anyone ever had. If I needed someone or something, I knew they were there. And I could sure as hell defend myself.
Huh.
The puff of a laugh out of him almost erased the memory of Mr. Deep-Voice a moment ago. “From footy.” His right dimple popped. “I didn’t like the look or the sound of him. He had no right to talk to