Fighting Fate (Fighting #7) - JB Salsbury Page 0,19

the next place.”

I can’t offer agreement. Obviously, I wouldn’t know. The fact that she does makes me grind my teeth.

Fuck. Play it cool, Killian.

I sigh and flop back onto Axelle’s twin bed, my feet hanging off the end. I remember the day we moved her in and Mindy asked why Ax got such a tiny bed. Blake had said, “It’s not tiny, Mindy; it’s built for one person.” He glared at Axelle, sending the very clear message that dudes were not welcome to warm her sheets. If he had any clue, he’d flip his shit.

She drops her purse on her bedside table and fishes out her phone. I watch her expression morph, her smile fall, and her brows pinch together as she clicks through what I assume to be text messages.

“Everything okay?”

Her gaze jerks to mine, and it’s as if she forgot I was even there. “Oh, yeah. It’s Clifford. Guess he must’ve been worried about me or something.”

“Ha!” Worried. Right. More like disappointed she wasn’t left alone and defenseless in his bed.

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

I stretch one arm up and prop my head on it. “No, that obvious?”

She laughs. “Yeah, it is.”

I shrug. What can I say? Just another dipshit in the lineup of total dicks that compose Axelle’s dating life. The good news is none of her relationships have ever been serious. I know she’s working hard to fill the void her dad—or dads—left behind, and as much as I want to confess that I’m in love with her, I know she’s not ready for it. I’ve got one shot at winning her, and jumping too soon will make me another one of her hole-fillers. Literally.

“Why are you blushing?”

Fuck. My face is burning up. “I’m not. It’s hot as hell in here.” Has nothing to do with thinking about filling your ho—

“I’ll turn on the fan.” She hits the switch on the wall, and then her fingers fly over the keys of her phone. She’s texting the prick back, and if I know Ax, she’s apologizing for doing nothing wrong.

God, I hate that guy.

The five-tone chime from Close Encounters of the Third Kind sounds from my pocket and I grab my phone. I don’t even care who’s calling, anything to take my mind off Axelle kissing Clifford’s ass via text message.

“Hello?”

“Killer, where the fuck are you?” I check the caller ID and see he’s not calling from his cell, but from his office.

I sit up at the demand in Cam’s voice. The guy has no conversational tone. He could be reading Shakespeare, and it would sound like he’s commanding an army. “Blake and Jonah told me to take a day off.”

My explanation is met with silence, which makes my palms sweat.

“Wait. What are you doing there? It’s Saturday.”

“Came in to talk to you, but your training partners seem to think they run this organization.” He mumbles something I can’t make out before dropping a pretty hefty f-bomb. “How fast can you get here?”

Cam says jump; I say how high and at what velocity. “Ten minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Um…can you give me a heads up—?”

The line goes dead.

I tuck the phone back into my pocket, and Axelle’s still texting. Now her fingers are really moving, and a hint of anger pinches her usually smooth forehead.

“You think Mindy and Naked Heisman are done out there?”

She peers up at me and smiles. Fuck, she always manages to take my breath away. “No clue.”

“I gotta run. Cam’s waiting for me.”

“Oh, okay. Then sure, just storm on through. I’d keep your head down though, ya know, just in case they’re going at it in the kitchen.”

I cross to her door and tug her ponytail as I pass. “Talk to you later.”

“Wait.” She blinks and swallows before setting those piercing blue eyes on me. “Thanks for helping me out last night. I mean I’m sure I would’ve been fine, but—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m always here if you need me.” I motion to the door. “I really need to go.”

“Yes, go.” She plucks the shirt she’s wearing with her fingers. “I’ll wash this and get it back to you on Monday.”

“No hurry. See ya.” I head from her room, keeping my eyes to the floor, and it’s a good thing I do because, when I pass Mindy’s room, her door is wide open, and I’m assaulted by the hushed whispers of a very heated good-bye.

Five

Killian

I knock twice on Cameron’s door and wait for him to give me permission to enter. It’s cracked, but

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