The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,80

of the roasted chicken she’d made, I’d been ready to accept. Until a beautiful dark-skinned girl, who I’d only seen once but never forgot, sauntered into the kitchen with a sensual grace I knew I would never possess.

“You’re Lou, aren’t you?” she asked knowingly the moment our eyes locked. Her gentle smile was hesitant, and I didn’t bother returning it. She was the first to fold and looked around the kitchen with a frown. “Where’s Wren?” she asked no one in particular. “I didn’t see his car out front.”

“Lou came alone,” Irma explained when I remained noticeably silent.

My conscience was begging me to get over my jealousy and be kind, but I couldn’t. My gut told me Wren had been with this girl. To me, that was more than enough cause to hate her forever. She’d taken something from me. Something I knew I could never have back.

Wren said he’d been celibate since I stopped him from screwing Samantha, and I believed him though I didn’t know why. Kendra was beautiful, and if I had her at my disposal, I’d definitely be hitting that and often. As always, pleasure and relief flowed through me knowing that Wren had been mine all this time even if neither of us realized it.

I didn’t stick around long after that. Kendra had tried unsuccessfully to thaw the wall of ice I’d built around me, but I remained impenetrable. Not wanting to spit on Irma’s hospitality further, I made a quick escape.

Now I stood in front of the same barbershop I’d huddled under for shelter the night I’d met Wren. I hadn’t been back since that night, and recalling my near brush with death, my legs shook a little when I stepped inside. The parlor had an over-the-top masculine touch with tiled stone floors, brick walls, brown leather barber chairs, and black and silver accents decorating the walls and surfaces of the shop. It also smelled heavily of cigar smoke.

And standing alone inside was the tallest man I’d ever seen with a wild mane of golden hair brushing massive shoulders and a full, unkempt beard covering the lower half of his scowling face.

“A-are you Bear?”

“What was your first clue, kid?” He set down the clippers he was cleaning and picked up another, barely sparing me a glance.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I answered returning his sarcasm and forgetting to be afraid. “The fact that you’re huge and hairy?”

He grunted, and I wondered if that was his idea of a laugh. “When you’re old enough, you’ll appreciate the sight of a real man.”

My nose wrinkled as I studied the man before me. Wren had been a scrawny teen with muscles just beginning to bloom when I met him, and as promised, he filled out so deliciously well over the past couple of years. He had enough to appreciate for a lifetime without going overboard. Some women were into men who looked like lumberjacks, but I didn’t think I would ever be. “Don’t count on it.”

Tossing down the clippers, Bear turned and lowered his hulking frame into the brown leather barber chair before slouching low. “What can I do for you”—he squinted menacingly—“besides throwing your scrawny ass out of my shop?”

“I’m looking for Wren.”

He froze and then stared long and hard enough to make me squirm. “You Lou?”

“Yeah…” I frowned as I shifted on my feet. “How did you know?”

“I’ve known you for two minutes, and I already want to put my fist through that wall.” He pointed to the one behind me and then looked me up and down. “It makes sense.”

Crossing my arms, I lifted my chin. “Do you know where he is?”

It turned out Bear did know how to laugh. Loud enough, in fact, I could have sworn I felt the ground shake beneath me. “I now understand why my godson has been so crabby lately. You’re the little monster turning his balls blue.”

I didn’t react at first as I replayed the little bomb he casually dropped over and over. “Godson? You’re his godfather?”

Bear shrugged and stuck a toothpick in his mouth, lazily twirling it around while staring as if he were bored with me already. “Unofficially. I knew his father.”

“You’re Exiled?” I unconsciously took a step back. His gaze narrowed, telling me it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Do I look like the type who needs another grown man telling me what to do?”

“Wren is Exiled,” I pointed out.

“And I wish to God I’d been there to stop it. His father would probably kill me if he