Page 63 of A Lick and A Promise
Working?
What was working?
“A man who is not still into a woman does not get up in his bud’s face about flirting with her, especially when he knows we’re just fucking around, though, not literally,” he stated. “If he can get anyone he wants, what does he give a shit about me going after what I want?”
“He and I did have a thing, Brady, and it was intense.”
“And it was over, so he’s got no call to harass me if he let you slip through his fingers. We didn’t start that shit up the day after you two split. It was months later.”
This was true.
“He gave me an ultimatum, me or the Angels,” I announced.
It was Brady’s turn to stare.
“And he gave me about five minutes to decide,” I went on. “No thinking on it. No discussion. ‘If you want me, you’ll stop doing that shit,’ were almost his exact words.”
Actually, his exact words were: If you want me, if you want this, us, a future together, you’ll stop doing that shit. Not a single next mission. Walk away from it, Luna, right now. If you don’t, then walk out that door.
“What the fuck?” Brady asked into my unhappy reverie.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” I said quickly. “And you should know, I get it. It was after that homeless abduction case. You guys had to go in…again…and clean up the mess. I mean, why aren’t you going after Gemma? Are you hesitating because she’s an Angel?”
“This isn’t about Gemma,” he said shortly.
And boy, the dude could get short when Gemma was brought up.
“Brady—”
“And that shit with Knox was not about the Angels.”
I felt my throat get tight.
“Yeah, it’s not news to you that we all think you women have a screw loose,” Brady said (I couldn’t counter that, as mentioned, we were nutso broads doing vigilante shit). “But we also know there are reasons you do what you do. And you don’t pull stupid shit. Your moves are considered. You know your strengths. You know your limits. You’ve been easing into the game and doing it smart. And you know when it’s too hot and you need to back away and find someone else to finish the job.”
Aw, that was all sweet.
The server came with our food.
I immediately tucked in because…Nashville hot chicken.
I was on bite number two before I noticed Brady wasn’t eating (he’d picked the French dip burger so he should be all over it).
“We need to be just Brady and Luna,” I said after I swallowed. “Because I need to be just Knox and Luna, friends. Sure, friends with a history, but friends. I care about him, Brady. I care about you. It’s upsetting in the extreme you aren’t talking to each other because of me. And I don’t even know what I was thinking, because I’m not into games.”
For a second, he didn’t say anything. He just held my eyes.
And then, very quietly, he said, “This isn’t a game, honey. This is very serious, and if you don’t realize that either, then shit is gonna get a lot worse before it gets better.”
I didn’t like that at all.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“That means I guess I’m sidelined, and I’m gonna have to watch it unfold like everyone else.”
“We’re all just friends,” I asserted.
“You’re right,” he said, finally picking up his burger. “We are.”
