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With those words, his posture shifts, and I anticipate the uppercut a second before it connects. The solid punch slams into my jaw with a sickening crunch, forcing me back a step. My vision blurs for a second, and I grin at him as my fists clench, adrenaline surging through my veins.
I lunge forward and land a shot to his jaw before he can retreat, my knuckles splitting open on impact. Ouch, I think. That’ll leave a mark.
Seizing him by the shirt, we tussle until we separate, both of us panting heavily and glaring daggers at each other.
Gray’s chest heaves with rage as he throws wild punches, one grazing my face and another landing solidly on my torso. “You’ve gone soft,” he says, his breath heaving.
“In your dreams,” I hiss as my fists slam into his stomach over and over.
He straddles me, raining blows on my face and forcing me to shield myself while absorbing his punches. “Asshole,” I manage to mutter.
I allow a couple hits to gain the upper hand. Many guys won’t do this. Take some punches to ultimately win the fight. Gray falls for it.
I lower my arms from my face, and he lands one punch. Then another. As he winds up for a third, overconfident and cocky, I make my move. Two jabs to his left side. Two to his right. A punch square in the chest leaves him gasping.
“Shit,” he wheezes, sprawled on Ivy’s lawn, the wind knocked out of him.
“Guess I haven’t gone soft after all,” I say, standing up and brushing off my jeans. I offer a hand to help him up, but he knocks it aside with a scowl.
“I don’t need your damn help, Stone,” he spits, struggling to his feet.
I raise my hands and let them fall, adrenaline pumping through me like wildfire. “Yeah, fuck you too, Gray.” I walk away from the man I consider a brother, angry and feeling like crap.
I know I shouldn’t want Ivy, not when she’s seeing someone, but I can’t control how I fucking feel. I throw my leg over my motorcycle and sit down, glancing back at Ivy’s place one last time.
Sage grins and gives me a small finger wave from the front window. Next to her, the blinds clatter closed.
So, Ivy was watching. She witnessed it all.
Perfect.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ivy
“Stupid fucking men,” I grumble to myself for what feels like the eight-hundredth time in two days. It’s the only words I can think about since Stone and Gray came to blows outside my house.
What the hell were they thinking fighting on my front lawn? They’ve been friends since childhood and grew up on the ranch together, and now they’re fighting. Since when? Why? And why in the hell is Gray so jealous all of a sudden? I’m a good woman, dammit. Sure, I’ve been a little distracted the past few weeks, but that was even before Stone came back to Opey. So, really, what the hell is his problem?
“Don’t scrub the finish off the bar.” Hazel’s words pull me—thankfully—from my useless thoughts.
“Sorry, I was in a daze, I guess.” The club opens in less than thirty minutes, and this is usually a rush time when we all run around to make sure the bars are stocked, and we check to see that we have enough lemons, limes, cherries, and any other fruit people require in their cocktails.
Hazel studies me for a long moment, a slightly amused smile on her face. “Anything you need to talk about, Ivy? I’m a good listener.”
Shit, am I that obvious? “No. I mean, thanks, but no. You know how it is with tasks you’ve done a million times. Your mind starts to drift.” Which isn’t a complete lie.
“As long as you’re all right,” she answers in a sing-song voice. “And seriously, don’t fuck up that finish,” she says and saunters off.
My smile fades, and as I dry off different glasses, my mind goes back to the two men I’ve been avoiding since I kicked them both out of my house. Everything is all of a sudden so fucking confusing, and I don’t like it.
I can’t and won’t be the reason they end a lifelong friendship. Stone and I are nothing but friends. Just because there was that moment in the kitchen where I’m pretty sure Stone was about to kiss me, or maybe I was about to kiss him. Who knows at this point? What I do know is that a small part of me wants that kiss, and that’s a problem.
It makes me a terrible girlfriend. It might even make me an awful friend, too.
The little angel on my shoulder loves to remind me that Stone abandoned me. I won’t toss Gray aside just because Stone is back and looking like Thor’s biker twin.
But I might toss him aside because he’s becoming a jealous prick.
