“Seriously, thanks for coming, Rod.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” I say. “What an achievement!”
“Thanks. When I got back home from service, I never thought I’d be here today. I didn’t think I’d make it through the PTSD, but here I am moving on with my life.”
“You mean moving on in a big way. You’re Amara Edmonds’ head of security! That’s a big fucking deal, man.”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” he offers a boyish smile. “She hired me for my badass looks and the dog tags, of course, but I’m okay with that. I don’t mind being exploited by my boss,” he jokes.
Aaron Linder is twenty-nine and comes from a long line of military men and women. When he came back from deployment four years ago, he was in bad shape. He had suffered some devastating physical and emotional trauma. For a while, it was touch and go. His family’s unconditional love and support was key to his recovery. His friends banded together to help. Dom volunteered as his math tutor when he decided to pursue an associate's degree in criminal justice. I shouldered the cost. Now, he’ll be the bodyguard to one of the biggest popstars on the planet as she embarks on her world tour.
“You wish,” I sneer. “Let’s face it, you got hired because I taught you how to fight like a man.”
“Oh, please. Not that again. There wereonlythree of them. I could’ve taken them on.”
I smile.
Aaron and I met while I was staying with Nana Irene after my mother had another relapse. I was thirteen at the time. Irene Wolfe lived in Van Nuys–nowhere near Malibu, but a step up from the shithole neighborhood my mother lived in. Grandpa Rick had died a few years prior, so Nana worked two jobs. She worked the morning shift as a cleaning lady in a hotel in Sun Valley–a neighboring city. After picking me up from school, we’d drive to her other job. She was also the cleaning lady at a community-slash-recreation center for teens. It didn’t pay much, but it was my gateway.
The Norris Bradley Recreation Center is where I learned how to play the drums and perfect my craft. Most nights Nana worked until nine, but sometimes her boss asked her to stay until ten. On those longer shifts, she’d always give me a little money to go down to the convenience store to buy a snack.
One night, as I rounded the corner back to the recreation center, I noticed three big goons beating the shit out of another kid. I didn’t come out of that fight unscathed, but my face looked a hell of a lot better than the three other idiots. The police were called to the scene. Aaron vouched for me. He was a year older and a skinny kid. I was as lanky, but the anger I’d been carrying like a badge of honor and years of self-taught martial arts saved his ass. And mine.
“Well, no one can kick your butt anymore,” I say.
“You made sure of it.”
The army made Aaron a warrior. For three years, until the courts forced me to move back to the Fashion District, I was his Basic Camp training.
“Look who just got here,” Aaron’s sister cheers as she walks into the garden.
My eyes shift to the angelic blonde following her.
My best friend is killing me with her transformation.
I’m still not used to the hair.
She’s wearing a little bit more makeup than usual, but it looks good on her. A pair of large Italian 18k yellow gold hoops I gave her for her twenty-first birthday pierce her ears. The gold bangles on her right arm are also a gift. My chest pumps with pride seeing them on her.
Don’t ask me why, but my eyes land on her dainty feet. She doesn’t wear heels often, but she’s rocking those nude-colored ones.
Her dress is stunning. It showcases her slender body and displays her left sleeve of tattoos. The green and navy lace detail and form-fitting bodice make it super sexy, but still very classy. The mid-calf length is such a turn on because it prompts so many dirty thoughts as to what she’s hiding underneath.
And those thin straps…
Damn.
They suggest she isn’t wearing a bra.
I’m so fucked.
My mind had to go there.
As my eyes travel back up to her face, I pause at her plump lips.
Why did I have to do that?
Now I can only think about my best friend’s uninhibited response to the hotter-than-hell kiss we shared. My cock twitches inappropriately in my pants. Much like when I was holding her in my arms.
