Page 14 of Defending her Heart

Rowan greets me at her door, taking the bags from me, and Riley already has a margarita made for me. Bless my best friends. I haven’t radioed in a 911 call since Jason the two-timing-cheater-asshole drama.

My friends know not to pester me while we make the nachos. I’m not one to hold back, so there’s no need to dig for information. The fact that I’m quiet has them worried. I can tell by the way they keep glancing at each other and shrugging as if talking in code.

What’s wrong with Kendall?

I don’t know. Maybe she’s gone off the deep end.

So deep she’s quiet. That bitch never shuts up.

Yeah, they’re totally talking telepathically. I would too if I knew how to close my trap. The fact that I’ve been mute, sans the stomping around Rowan’s miniscule kitchen and chopping vegetables more aggressively than needs be, is telling on its own.

When the nachos are in the oven, I pour myself a second margarita and plop down on the couch.

“I fucking hate Nash Humphries.”

Rowan and Riley look at each other with confusion clear on their faces, then at me.

“Nash? He’s always so quiet. When did you see him?” Riley takes a seat on the floor across from me.

“Did you know he has a daughter?”

“Really?” Rowan is as shocked as I was this afternoon.

Well, maybe notasshocked. She hadn’t ogled his perfect ass in a pair of form-fitting boxers this morning. Hell, I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t had a cup of coffee until my break at ten o’clock. I can’t even begin to function without my caffeine fix.

Who knew that a fine piece of ass was the equivalent to a shot of java?

“Walker told me a few months ago. Hump is pretty quiet about it. I’ve pestered Walker for details but he says Hump doesn’t like to talk about his personal life. Walker respects that since he’s the same.”

“Was the same.” I point out. “Now the guy doesn’t stop talking about his personal life.”

Riley grins like a woman madly in love. Because, hell, she is. “Correction: he’s quiet about his past, but he has no problem showing off his love for me.”

“Gag.” I pretend to stick a finger in my throat.

“How did you learn of his daughter, and why does that make you hate him so much?” Rowan, our voice of reason asks, bringing the attention back to me. Which I don’t mind. I love being the center of attention. But not when it’s something like this.

He humiliated me. Sure, maybe no one else heard his insults, but I did.

“His daughter is in my class.”

“Aww. That sweet—” Riley sees my glare and cuts herself off. Smart friend.

“He’s never once stepped foot in Revere. His parents take care of his daughter, but today he picked her up. He was surprised to see me and called me a fucking slut.” At my friends’ gasps, I clarify. “In so many words.”

I back up and tell them about Beth asking me to watch Paisley last night, and fill them in on everything that happened since. Minus the man-candy ogling in his kitchen. It’s completely irrelevant.

“I don’t understand what his problem is with you. You two never interact much when we go out after the games.” Riley draws her knees to her chest.

“And that’s on him. I’ve always had the sense he doesn’t care for me much, and that my flirting makes him uncomfortable, so I may or may not go extra hard on the flirt. But still, that’s like three or four times I’ve ever seen him out. And once was at your wedding. It’s always been playful fun and I’ve never said or done anything mean to him. So why this bullshit evilness? Especially after I bailed him and his parents out by watching Paisley last night?” I finish off my drink as the oven timer goes off.

Rowan gets up to see to the nachos and I reach for the water bottle Riley hands me. While I’d love to soak my mood up with tequila, there’s no way I can manage a room of sixteen kindergarteners with a hangover.

“That doesn’t sound like him. Nash has always been nice. Quiet, even. I can ask Walker to talk to him.”

“No. Absolutely not. There’s no need to get anyone else mixed up with Nash Potato’s split personality. If he wants to think I’m a ho-bag, fine.”

“Do you think he’ll follow through on his threat about your job?” Rowan asks as she sets the pile of cheesy chips on the coffee table.

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