Hard (Sexy Bastard #1)

Still, I can’t help but feel obligated to protect Jamie, as clueless or ungrateful as he seems sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. He’s twenty-two, definitely old enough to know better and definitely young enough to be an idiot. This won’t be the last time he gets himself into a jam, but I decide it’s the last time I’m helping him get out of it. And if it’s my finale, maybe I can help him get out of it all the way—and myself, too. I love Jamie and I like Ryder (maybe even really like him?), but I’m tired of being in the middle of their problem.

Which is what I’m hoping Ryder will understand when I visit his office before I leave work Friday evening and ask him to consider forgiving Jamie’s debt.

“I can’t do that, Cassie,” he says. He sits in his desk chair and I sit on the edge of the desk across from him, cross-legged in my jeans and t-shirt, feeling a prick of regret that I’m not in a sexy short skirt and heels. Normally I’m not a big advocate of using your body to get what you want, but normally I’m not asking for something this difficult to get either.

“I know you don’t want to,” I say. “But you can do it. I mean, you’re able. They’re your shots to call. And it’s not like you’re not getting anything back. I’ve worked here for three weeks, plus waitressing that night, so I’ve paid you back almost three grand by now.”

“That’s not even a third of what your brother’s in for,” he says, leaning forward, putting his hands on my thighs. “And don’t forget the interest.”

“I haven’t,” I say. I uncross my legs so he has to remove his hands from me and I turn my head away from him, folding my arms over my chest.

“This isn’t personal but it also isn’t just about money,” he says. “I can’t just call off a debt. That’s no way to run a successful business.”

“A successful, illegal business.”

Ryder sits back in the chair. “Where is all this coming from?”

“Where is all what coming from?” I can feel the awkwardness of this conversation turning into my annoyance with it, though I’m not even sure who I’m most annoyed with, Ryder for expecting the money or Jamie for not getting it.

Or myself. For thinking I could be the difference maker somehow, that I could fill the gap between what Ryder wants and what Jamie doesn’t have. That I would be the solution to a problem that isn’t even mine.

In England, that philosophy only ever led to a lot of heartache and headaches, and while I know Ryder and Jamie won’t hurt me the way Sebastian did, I don’t know why I thought they’d be fixed any more easily or why I didn’t learn my lesson when Sebastian taught it to me the hard way: you can’t change people.

“This sudden concern about Jamie’s debt,” Ryder says. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because he still doesn’t have the money, and I seriously doubt he ever will.”

Ryder cocks his head. “He still doesn’t have it,” he says. “So you’ve heard from him recently?”

Fuck. I take a breath. “No,” I say. “I’m just assuming.”

“You’re sure you don’t know where he is,” he says, his voice so calm and composed it makes me want to scream.

“I have no idea.” I can feel my annoyance morphing into anger. “And I also don’t know why you’re being so stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn. I’m getting what’s mine,” he says. “It’s fair to expect your brother to pay me what he owes.”

“And I just work without any income until he does?”

Ryder raises his hands, his big, open palms facing me, like he’s surrendering or saying stop. “That arrangement was your idea.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I made a mistake.” I slide off the desk and walk to the other side of it, running my hand through my short hair. It’s times like these I wish I could still wear a ponytail, something I could pull to balance my frustration.

“You don’t want to work here anymore?”

“I want you to make this debt go away.”

“I can’t, Cassie.” He shakes his head. “I can’t. Not even for you.”

I lean across the desk, my hands spread, my arms locked. “Why not?”

Ryder stands. “Because this isn’t about you or Jamie. This is about me.”

I look up at the ceiling. “Of course it is.”

“Let me explain something to you,” he says, his tone still calm but tighter now. Restrained. “In the fighting world, every night you don’t know if you’re going to end up a hero or at the hospital. The only thing you can protect is your reputation, and I’m not ruining mine because you and your brother can’t come up with ten grand.”

“I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

“I’m sure you can keep a secret,” he says, his gaze unyielding, trying to bore through to the hidden place where I’ve pushed the truth. “But your brother clearly can’t be trusted, and as soon as he shoots off his mouth, everyone with a hot sister will think he doesn’t have to pay me back.”

“I get it,” I say. “So you can fuck me but you can’t do me any favors.”