21. Kyle

After the song ended, it had taken everything in me to not slam the mic into the stand and storm across the room so I could chase away Harper’s annoying neighbor. But Asher had been giving me shit about her for two weeks, and that would never end if he had any inkling that I was jealous of some douche bag.

Not that I was jealous. I wasn’t. But Harper deserved someone better than the wannabe surf boy who lived next door.

“Are you even listening to me?” I didn’t know her name, but her voice was too nasally and her perfume was practically choking me. And fuck, if she rubbed against me one more time, scraping my forearm with that damn sequined dress, I might have to walk away.

“Streaks isn’t known for his conversational skills. You know that, Amber,” said the brunette tucked under Cam’s arm. “And we aren’t here to talk.”

Silently I glared at my friend, hoping he could read the what the fuck? in my expression. Because this woman wasn’t his normal type.

He dropped his arm from around the chick and stepped back. “Excuse us, ladies. We’re going to grab refills.”

I fell into step with him as we headed toward the bar in the corner.

“What’s up with you tonight?” I asked when we were out of earshot of the women.

“I asked Ashley to come, but she blew me off.” With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.

“Ashley?” I stopped short. “Like Piper’s Ashley?”

He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me along with him.

“Yes,” he hissed. “And keep it down.”

“But I hired her to work with Piper.”

“And you hired me to pick up your dry cleaning. I didn’t realize either position required a vow of celibacy,” he snapped.

I frowned at his reaction, totally confused by the un-Cam-like behavior. “It doesn’t, man. I just didn’t realize.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He waved me off and ordered a whiskey.

“Seems like it does.” I eyed the drink as the bartender set it down and Cam immediately picked it up and tossed it back. “You’re upset. So what happened?” I asked as the bartender set a beer in front of me.

Frowning, Cam spun his now empty glass in a small circle. “She apparently just got out of a relationship, and I’m not the type of guy you get under in order to get over someone else.”

I scoffed. “Ashley did not say that.” I may have been ignorant of the way my friend was pining over her, but I’d been around this girl enough to know she didn’t talk that way.

“Close enough.” He shook his head and held up a hand, signaling for another glass of whiskey. “Basically, I’m a nice guy, not someone she’d want to rebound with, and she’s not ready for more than that.”

“Sounds like all you need is a little patience.” I patted his back and took a sip of my beer.

Grunting, he peered over his shoulder. I set my beer on the bar and turned too. Instantly, I zeroed in on the red hair across the room. Harper’s hair was always up in a bun or a braid or a twist. I’d never seen it down before tonight. She’d done that thing women do when they make their hair have waves without the curl. And between that and the hunter-green sweater that kept slipping off her right shoulder, I had struggled to take my eyes off her since she walked in.

There were a lot of sexy women in this room. Any direction I looked, I’d find another tight dress, another set of high heels, another pair of long lashes, many of which were being batted at me. But not one of them could compete. Harper wasn’t even looking for attention, yet she was the I could spend forever watching her type of beautiful.

I frowned. Because currently, she was glowing as she smiled at the neighbor.

“It seems like Harper is long over her ex,” Cam said beside me, picking up his second glass of whiskey. “Definitely a single and ready to mingle situation. So maybe don’t dick around and let someone else get into those tight-ass leggings.”

I reared back, and in doing so, I slammed into the bar behind me.

Cam gave me a concerned once-over. I stared at him in return, slack jawed. Because once again, that didn’t sound like Cam. For weeks, he’d been telling me to stay away from her. Every time he’d witnessed me dancing a line with her, he’d been loud in his opinion.

I balled my hands into fists at my sides when the implication of what he’d said finally registered.

“Sorry,” he added, quickly holding up a palm. “Not trying to be disrespectful to her. I adore Harper. She has grit and personality. I’m just in a mood.”

Still annoyed by his comment, I crossed my arms over my chest. “And smarts. And she would probably verbally eviscerate you for talking about her.”

He dropped his head back and guffawed. “But man, you like her. For the first time since I met you, I can see that you genuinely like a woman.”

I brought my beer to my lips and took a slow sip, giving myself a second to collect my thoughts. Was he right? Was that what this sensation was?

She was hot, and I was attracted to her, but I’d known that the instant I saw her. But I’d forced her into the not allowed box. Or I’d tried. Across the room, she was worrying her lip. The move had my gut tightening. What if I stopped fighting it…?

I shook that thought off. That wasn’t what Cam meant. He was talking about other types of feelings.

Like the desperate need to help her. But that was easy to justify. Because she was an incredible person, and she deserved someone on her side. And she didn’t have many people. So I wanted to be one.

Understanding that I wanted to see her smile at me, wanted to see her name pop up on my phone screen, and wanted to hear her voice wasn’t the same as understanding why I wanted those things. And the burning need to punch people on her behalf, on her kids’ behalf, was new. I rarely felt that kind of anger unless I was losing a competition.

Did that all mean I liked her?

I sighed at my own ridiculousness as I set my bottle back on the bar. Of course I did. She was cool. And riling her up was the highlight of my day. But he was implying a deeper feeling. A stronger one.

“It’s why you keep glaring at the beach bum over there.” Chuckling darkly, he turned back to the bar and lifted his drink.

I took another swig from my bottle. “Total tool, right?”

Cam shrugged. “I’ve never met him. But he looks like he should be out riding waves.”

“I met him. He was trying to get her to go out with him when I brought the kids home last week,” I growled.

“And you were jealous.” He spun his drink on the lacquered surface of the bar. “Ever feel that way before?”

I scoffed. “I wasn’t jealous, I was annoyed.”

He lifted his whiskey and held it toward me. “Let’s toast. To all of us having your level of self-awareness.”

Fucker. Biting back a curse, I flipped him off.

“Look,” he said, laughing, “I’m giving you shit, but…” Head tilted, he cocked a brow. “She’s watching you in the same way you watch her when you think no one is looking. Don’t be dumb. Go after that.”

I studied her, found she was watching me too, then scanned the group she was with. Maybe Cam was right. Maybe I should stop holding back, have some fun, and see what happened.

“Can I get five chilled vodka shots?” I asked the man behind the bar.

“Just remember,” Cam said, patting my shoulder, “before you cross lines, she and JJ need some honesty from you. Make sure you balance out the fun with the truth.”

Right. Of course. Only there was a damn good chance that would ruin everything.