Shoot Out (The Baltimore Banners Book 7) Read online

  Fuck. He had to stop thinking about it, stop remembering it. Not here, of all places, not when it would it be so easy for anyone passing by to notice the way his cock was standing at attention, rock hard and ready to go. He fisted the towel in front of him and moved to the leg press, Derek following him.

  “I like her, okay? What is so fucking wrong with that?”

  “Because ‘fucking’ is the keyword with this whole thing. You’re just hung up on the sex. And no, don’t even give me that look. You’re not one to sleep around, you never have been. And now some bad girl has caught your attention and you don’t know which side is up.”

  “Nicole is not a ‘bad girl’ so shut the fuck up.”

  “Oh man, really? Dude, look at her, all tatted up and shit, working at a strip joint.”

  “Judgmental much? Just because she has tattoos—”

  “Okay, so there’s nothing wrong with her tats. I like tats, lots of people do. My point is that you don’t do ink. How many times have you said you’re not into tattoos? That you don’t find them attractive?”

  “I like Nicole’s tattoos.”

  “Holy shit. Are you not even listening? She picked you up in a fucking bar!”

  “Doesn’t matter. I like her and I want to see her again. And I am. Tomorrow. I asked if you guys wanted to join us because I figured she might be more relaxed if the four of us went together, since she knows Bridget. Stupid idea, so just forget I asked.”

  “Why are you getting so pissed?”

  “You really have to ask me that? After everything you just said?”

  “I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing, that you’re not making more out of this than it is.”

  “I’m not making anything out of it, you are. All I’m looking for is tomorrow. One date, that’s it. You don’t want to go, fine.”

  “I didn’t say that. You want us to go, we’ll go.”

  “With that attitude? Yeah, that’ll definitely make her feel comfortable. No thanks.” Mat turned his back on Derek, adding more weights for this round. This was supposed to be a light workout, just something to keep them in rhythm during the off-season, until training camp started in six weeks. But Mat no longer wanted a light workout. He wanted to sweat, to burn, to push himself.

  No, what he really wanted was to go ten rounds in a ring—preferably using Derek’s face as a punching bag. Too bad he wasn’t a boxer.

  Mat adjusted his position on the bench, ready to start. But he didn’t move, didn’t tear into the reps. His mind was elsewhere, replaying Derek’s words, replaying each tiny bit of conversation he’d had with Nicole—which really wasn’t much. In fact, the only time she’d really talked at all, the only time she had initiated the conversation, had been when she talked about her photography. She had come alive then, her face lighting up, her expressions animated. It had been easy to see—no, to feel—her excitement.

  The rest of the conversations, if he could even call them that, had been short. Maybe a little tense and uncomfortable, like she wasn’t sure what to say. Like she wasn’t sure how to act around him. Did it have something to do with their night in New Orleans? Maybe she was embarrassed. Or maybe she thought he was just looking for a repeat and nothing else. But if that was the case, what about the other night? Maybe he was reading too much into things, or listening too much to Derek.

  And maybe he should just let it go. He could sit here all day and play the ‘what-if’ game, trying to read her mind after the fact. It wouldn’t do him any good, though, not when each of his thoughts focused on something negative. Yeah, definitely not productive.

  He lifted his legs and placed his feet against the plate, gripping the handles by his side and pushing out with a grunt. And fuck, maybe he overdid it with the weights because he had to push harder than he expected. Then he looked over and noticed Derek leaning against the weight plates, holding them down. A large shit-eating grin spread across his face before he started laughing.

  “Man, Kenny was right. You really do have it bad for her.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Derek stepped away from the weights, still chuckling as Mat started his reps. One. Two. Three. He groaned and pressed down, holding then releasing. Holding then releasing. The weights slammed together with a crash but Mat barely noticed, not with Derek standing next to him, laughing loud enough to drown out everything else around them.

  “What the fuck is so funny?”

  Derek drew a deep breath and wiped his hand across his eyes, shaking his head. “You. If you could see the look on your face—” He took another deep breath that turned into a snort. “You look like you’re ready to bash someone’s face in.”

  “Yeah. Yours, if you don’t knock it off.”

  “Fine, I’ll stop.” He stepped back, his hands held up in surrender, a smile deepening his dimples. “I still say you’re making a mistake.”

  “Dude, I swear—”

  “Okay, okay. I’m done. I won’t say anything else about it.” Derek leaned against the machine next to Mat’s, crossing his arms in front of him. “So what are we supposed to be doing on this big date tomorrow?”

  Mat lowered his legs and reached for the towel, swiping it across his face before draping it around his neck. He glanced at Derek then looked away, shrugging. “I was thinking of going up to Oregon Ridge. They have those summer concerts with fireworks and everything. We could do a picnic dinner and—”

  But Derek wasn’t listening. Of course not. How could he be, when he was laughing again? Mat clenched his jaw so hard his back teeth ground together and stood up. “Why the fuck do I even bother? Just forget I said anything.”

  Derek grabbed his arm, his grip strong enough to keep Mat from flinging his hand away, which is what he wanted to do. Instead he just stood there, tense and stiff, giving Derek the dirtiest look he could—his dangerous game face. The scowl generally worked, at least on the ice, but Derek just ignored him.

  “I’m sorry, really. And I’m not laughing at you. It’s just—” Derek released his arm, that big grin still on his face. “Your girl just doesn’t look like the type who would enjoy a picnic and fireworks in the country air, you know?”

  Mat ignored the ‘your girl’ part, knowing Derek couldn’t be further from the truth. No, he wouldn’t mind calling Nicole his girl—despite the sexist sound of it—but wasn’t sure she’d agree. It was too soon. And right now, he wasn’t entirely sure she was even interested. At least, as interested as he was. So no, he couldn’t get excited over that possibility, not yet. That didn’t stop him from scowling at Derek.

  “Why don’t you think she’d be interested?”

  “Seriously? Mat, she looks like she’d more comfortable at some kind of head-banging club or something.”

  “You just don’t learn, do you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Judging people so quick. I really thought you would have learned better after being with Bridget but I guess not.” Mat started to walk away. Derek grabbed his arm again and quickly stepped in front of him, his smile gone now.

  “That’s not fair—”

  “Isn’t it? That’s exactly what you’re doing, you know. You’re just assuming shit when you don’t know anything about Nicole.”

  “And neither do you, Mat. That’s the point I’ve been trying to make ever since this conversation started. Think about it. This girl picked you up in a bar. In New Orleans. You had sex. She left, never to be seen again. I mean, really, what the hell do you know about her? Not a damn thing. I just want to make sure you know what the hell you’re getting into before you jump in with both feet and start making wedding plans.”

  “Why the hell is everyone so fucking convinced I’m planning a wedding? You. Kenny. I’m tired of hearing it. A few dates. That’s all I’m looking for. Hell, I don’t even know her last name!”

  Silence descended between them, oddly accusing in the midst of the noise and racket surrounding them. Derek stared at him, hi
s brows raised in either shock or confirmation, Mat couldn’t tell. He shook his head and looked away, running the palm of one hand down his face. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. That’s the point we’re trying to make. You don’t even know her last name. You don’t know anything about her except that she works in a strip club. You can’t build a relationship on that.”

  Mat shook his head, in denial at Derek’s words, in denial of everything. He looked around, not really seeing the other people getting in their own workouts, the noise surrounding them just that: background noise. Empty, hollow. Devoid of all meaning or consequence. Just…there.

  “I know that.” He let out a deep breath then ran a hand over his face again. “I know. I’m not.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure.” He nodded, wishing he felt the conviction of his words. Was Derek right? Had Kenny been right? Was he already making more out of it than he should? Maybe Nicole really wasn’t interested in anything but the sex. Maybe that was the only reason she’d said yes. Yet here he was, making these grand plans for a fun and relaxing date. Reading into things, making something out of nothing.

  And Christ, wouldn’t that just suck? The idea soured his stomach and left him feeling winded. Maybe he should call his sister and ask her opinion. Michele would be honest with him, give him a woman’s perspective. But how humiliating would that be? Calling his younger sister and asking for relationship advice. Yeah, maybe he really had reached a new low point if he was considering doing that.

  He looked back at Derek, wishing his friend would stop looking at him that way. Like he was a lost cause that needed saving. Derek finally smiled again, giving him the wide charming grin that showed off his dimples, and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “Fine. We’ll go with you. But just know that if I see something, I’m going to say something.”

  “Funny. Real funny.” Mat tried to smile at his friend’s attempt at humor but his smile fell flat. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t trying to impress Derek. And maybe it would help to have someone watching out for him.

  Just in case Mat wasn’t as objective as he liked to think he was.

  Chapter Ten

  “You are such a ham!” Nicole laughed then looked through the viewfinder of the camera. Click, click, click. Laughter, clear and innocent and infectious, filled the small room and she hoped the camera would capture it. No, not the camera. Her. She hoped she would capture it and do the little girl justice.

  Mia jumped up and down, the thin mattress bouncing against the frame of the hospital bed. The tattered feather boa floated in the air around her pale face and Nicole aimed the camera again. Click. Click. Click. Hoping to capture the smile, the innocence, the undying hope.

  “You two certainly are making a racket in here.”

  Nicole lowered the camera and glanced over her shoulder, then offered the nurse a small smile of apology. “Sorry. I guess we got carried away.”

  Mary waved her hand in dismissal. “No, don’t worry. It’s good to hear.” She turned what Nicole was supposed to be a stern look at Mia. “But I think that’s enough for now. Time for your medicine and a nap.”

  Mia dropped back to the mattress with a theatrical sigh and tugged at the boa. The silk scarf wrapped around her head slid to the side and she pushed it back in place with an impatient swipe of her small hand.

  “That’s no fun.” But Nicole could see the pinched look to her eyes, the even paler color of her skin. Guilt swept through her at the sight. Had they overdone it? Had she made things worse for Mia?

  “She’ll be fine.” Mary put a reassuring hand on Nicole’s shoulder then moved to the bed, helping the little girl get settled more comfortably before handing her a small paper cup with two pills.

  Nicole looked away, busying herself with capping the camera and stowing her gear in the backpack. A small choke followed by a cough whispered through the room and Nicole flinched. Swallowing medicine was so hard for Mia, so difficult. And Nicole hated watching her, seeing her struggle and trying to be so brave when it was so easy to see—to feel—her pain and discomfort.

  Nicole squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then mentally shook herself. What right did she have to be uncomfortable, when Mia fought so hard to be so brave? She could learn so much from the little girl in front of her. From all the kids on this floor.

  “Are you coming back tomorrow? I want to see my pictures.”

  Nicole moved closer to the bed, the backpack held in one hand as she sat on the edge of the bed. She adjusted the covers, moving them higher so they fell around the girl’s thin shoulders.

  “No, sweetie. Not tomorrow. But the next day, I promise.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper, like she was ready to share a secret. “I have a date.”

  Maybe. Nicole still wasn’t sure if she wanted to go. No, that was a lie. She did want to go—more than she wanted to admit. And that scared her.

  But Mia’s eyes lit up, the glassy surfaces suddenly filled with excitement instead of exhaustion. She pulled her arm from underneath the covers and reached out, her fingers tracing the colorful tattoos on Nicole’s arm.

  “Does he have pretty pictures on his arm, too?”

  The question, asked with innocent awe, caught Nicole off guard and she laughed. A real laugh that made her feel warm and light inside. “No, sweetie. No pretty pictures.” No, not a single tattoo in sight. Or out of sight. She had looked, that first night in New Orleans, expecting to find at least one. But Mat’s skin was bare except for the few scars that she had seen. Scars that made him even more attractive in her eyes, a reaction she still didn’t understand.

  Mia dropped her arm to the side and sighed, but Nicole couldn’t tell if it was because she was tired—or disappointed. A small grin teased the corners of the girl’s mouth as she met Nicole’s gaze.

  “Is he your dragon?”

  Nicole laughed again. It was her fault Mia suddenly had an obsession about dragons. Between the tattoos on her arm and the pendant hanging from her neck, Mia was convinced that dragons were the ultimate superheroes, able to conquer all before swooping in and carrying the princess away to freedom. Her smile faded, becoming just a little forced when she realized she had once thought the same thing. Wished for the same thing.

  “No, Mat’s not my dragon, sweetie.” There were no such things as dragons, not in real life.

  “Oh. Well, will you at least take pictures so I can see your boyfriend?”

  Nicole opened her mouth, ready to tell the girl that Mat wasn’t her boyfriend. But she snapped it closed at the last second. There was a longing expression of excitement and anticipation on Mia’s young face and Nicole didn’t want to be responsible for making it disappear. So she nodded, trying to smile at the same time, to let Mia think she was looking forward to the date with her ‘boyfriend’, instead of calling him and cancelling the entire thing.

  “If he lets me, sweetie. No promises. How about some pictures of fireworks, though? Will that work?”

  “Hm-hm.” But Mia’s eyes were drifting shut, her words nothing more than an affirmative hum. Nicole tucked the blanket more tightly around her shoulders then sat there, watching as sleep claimed the little girl, finally relaxing the pinched lines around her eyes and mouth.

  Nicole sat there for another minute, just watching, wondering if the tightness in her chest would ease up before she left. It never did so she didn’t know why she thought it would now. She swallowed against the sudden thickness in her throat then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss against Mia’s forehead.

  She was surprised when she turned around and saw Mary still standing there. Surprised—and guilty, like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. She tossed the backpack over her shoulder and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, not quite able to meet the nurse’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed so long—”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re good for her. For all the kids.”
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br />   Nicole didn’t say anything, not sure if there was anything to say. But she couldn’t help but wonder if Mary would be saying the same thing if she knew where else Nicole worked now, if she knew what kind of past Nicole had. She had seen the raised eyebrows and pointed glances at her tattoos and piercings when she first started coming here. She’d caught some of the whispers, hastily cut-off as she walked by. She knew she didn’t look the part when she first started volunteering, not with her clothes and jet black hair and make-up and colorful tattoos on her arm.

  The piercings were gone now—at least, not being used. She was back to her natural hair color—kind of, maybe—and her make-up was toned down now, but her tattoos would always remain. And maybe they were more acceptable now—she certainly wasn’t the only person in the building with ink—but she still wondered if people were whispering about her, still wondered if people were judging her, even more than a year later.

  Nicole readjusted the pack on her shoulder, her hand automatically tightening around the strap. She glanced over her shoulder for one last look at Mia then turned back to Mary. “I should be going.”

  Mary nodded then stepped to the side so Nicole could pass. “I’ll be looking forward to those pictures as much as Mia on Sunday.”

  “Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.” Nicole moved past her and stepped into the hall, not sure why Mary had said that. Was she just being nice? Making conversation? Certainly she wasn’t really interested. Why would she be?

  And why couldn’t Nicole just accept the words at face value? Why did she have to read into everything? Question everything and look for some hidden meaning or ulterior motive.

  Dammit. Would she ever break that habit? Ever get over the distrust and wariness she had been conditioned to accept as normal? It had been more than two years, she should be over it by now.