It had never been this bad. Starla had suffered years of platonic friendship with Brian Ross, some years harder on her heart than others, but never like this. She’d even managed Candace’s arrival in his life with grace—figuring it would be a temporary thing for him, a fling, nothing more than the thrill of seducing the good girl while her affluent family wanted his head on a platter. But it hadn’t stopped there. He’d fallen hard. Candace had moved into his life, his apartment, even his business, taking up residence most days in the back office of Dermamania. Then the news of his proposal. Then the shock of Candace’s unexpected pregnancy and their subsequent quickie wedding in Las Vegas. They’d bought a house. Brought their son into the world.
Every event had driven the knife of this aching, unwanted attraction deeper into Starla’s heart, and now there was love like Starla had never seen before shining in his weary indigo eyes. It was more than she could take. She didn’t have any more blood to bleed for him. What the hell was she going to do?
A sharp whistle brought her head around. Everyone was staring at her, so she jerked back around pretending she had something caught in her eye. “I’m talking to you,” Brian said.
“Sorry! Lost in my thoughts. Freaking allergies and contacts. Let me just…” Leaning close to her mirror, she feigned making an adjustment, praying they were all fooled.
Well, Janelle—who knew the whole sorry story—wouldn’t be. At all.
“Heard you had some trouble last night,” Brian said. Ghost scoffed.
Starla gave Janelle a surreptitious evil eye in the mirror. “It was nothing.” Thanks for calling him. I still plan to cut you later. Janelle’s reflection gave her an innocent shrug.
“What happened?” Brian asked.
“What usually happens? He got weird. I got out.”
“How’d you get home?” Ghost asked.
“Um…” Shit, how much to reveal here? Oh, your girlfriend’s ex who hates you took me home. “I got a ride.”
“From who?” Brian asked. “Tell me it was someone you knew.”
“Indirectly.”
“Damn, girl.” He sighed and boosted himself up on his counter while Starla’s blood began a slow boil. Not at him, not really—mostly at herself. That her disastrous love life had only caused her another humiliation for him to hear about. At least it was enough to piss her off, to clear up her eyes and give her the courage to meet his gaze, which was now troubled. Because of her.
“Is that what you came here for?” she asked. “To see what sort of mess I’ve gotten myself into this time?”
Brian’s dark brows drew together. “What the hell’s your problem?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” She turned back to her station.
“Don’t fucking turn away from me. What’s the deal?”
Starla had to chuckle. She and Brian could yell and fight and she could want to scratch his eyes out, but both of them knew that tomorrow they would still be cool. Why couldn’t she find a relationship with as much security and stability as that?
She looked back at him. “I don’t need an audience for every mistake I make.”
“You’re usually the one playing out your mistakes on a stage for all of us to see.”
Ghost’s and Janelle’s gazes swung back and forth between them as if they were watching a fierce tennis match. “I didn’t ask Janelle to call you and drag you away from your wife and baby,” Starla snapped. “She took that upon herself.”
Brian indicated himself and Ghost with a wave of his hand. “Because she thought one of us might be needed to get you away from that fucking asshole you keep going out with despite everything we’ve told you.”
“I even told you,” Ghost said solemnly to her. “That guy… The wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. He’s not all with us.”
“See? And that’s coming from him.”
“What is this, a fucking intervention? You’re all ganging up on me now? Shit!” Her fingers itched to grab something, to throw it and storm out, to give them all something to really fucking talk about. She settled for clenching her hands at her sides, taking a deep breath, then diving toward the drawer where she kept a spare pack of cigarettes. “Fuck you guys,” she snarled as she rummaged, clumsy with rage. Where the hell were they? “You can pat yourselves on your fucking backs. Lesson learned, all right?” Ah! Her fingers grabbed the soft pack hard enough to crush the sweet cylinders to dust.
“Calm down,” Brian said, a hitch of laughter in his voice.
“Do not”—Starla straightened, holding the cigarettes out threateningly toward him—“tell me to calm down.”
“Calm down, Starla,” Ghost said, a twinkle of humor in his own eyes.
“Am I fucking funny to you?”
“You kind of are a little funny,” Brian said.
“It’s like being yapped at by a Chihuahua,” Ghost said. “You’re madder than a motherfucker but too little and cute to be scary.”
Brian dissolved into laughter. His musical, beautiful laughter, all at her expense. Just wonderful. She was a joke. Pulling a cigarette from the pack with her teeth, she grabbed a lighter from her drawer and muttered, “Fuck all y’all,” around the stick as she passed between the guys on her way to the back door.