Straight Flushed (Hot Pursuit #1)(27)
“Of course he did. So, you wanna meet me, or what?”
“I, um, might need a few minutes.”
I sighed. “Ew, do you still have some bar fly there?”
He covered his phone, and I heard muffled sounds as he spoke to someone in the background. “Come on, Di, just because you’re having a bad day doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” He laughed. “Yeah, I’ve got someone here, but I can get rid of her.”
I grunted and shook my head. “I hope she didn’t hear you say that.”
“Of course she didn’t. I have tact.”
“Yeah.” I snorted.
“I do. Lots. It’s willpower I lack.”
“How do you live with yourself?”
“Quite easily actually. I’ll meet you out front of the building in thirty,” he said. “And hey, Di?”
“Yeah?”
“Wear somethin’ pretty for me.”
I waited for Vance out in front of B&B. If he was late because he needed to have one more roll in the hay before he met up with me, I was going to kill him. My blood was still boiling from my conversation with Gabe, and I really needed to let off some steam before I exploded. I grabbed my phone and started killing time then I smelled his cologne before his arm went around my neck.
He kissed my cheek. “Hey, baby, you lookin’ for a good time?”
I smiled. “Hi, Vance. Glad you could show up.”
“Damn, baby, you ever gonna stop bustin’ my balls?”
“Nope, and don’t call me ‘baby.’ I’m trying to encourage you to be the good boy your mom always wanted you to be.”
He laughed. “My mom knows I’m a good boy. Come on. Let’s get inside and you can tell me all about your trip.”
On our way in, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed a black vehicle with dark tinted windows parked at the curb.
Nine
Vance and I went inside B&B’s private gym and put our stuff down on the side of the charcoal gray, rubber wrestling mat. Our company had spared no expense when they’d added the personal training facility to the building. Everything was shiny and new, not to mention, very well maintained.
Vance was full-blooded Italian through and through, was built like an Adonis, exuding confidence and strength. He walked out into the middle of the mat and took his stance. When he wasn’t sparring with me, he boxed and his body showed the hours of abuse he inflicted upon himself. His shoulders were big and bulky, his calves were well-defined, and his jet black hair and cold stare could intimidate most people, except me.
“Bring it on,” Vance said, enticing me to come forward with a few flicks of his fingers. His hair was tousled and messy, making me doubt he’d even taken a look at himself in a mirror before he’d left.
“What’s up with all the ratty attire today, Chachi?” I smirked.
Granted Vance normally dressed in whatever was on the top of the pile when it came to clothing, and he managed to look put-together, but his ensemble took his personal style to a whole new level. He wore old, ripped gray shorts and a navy blue shirt with the sleeves cut off. The front of the shirt read “Walnut Hills Drill Team” in big, bold yellow letters and had silhouettes of girls dancing below. He had to have acquired it from some girl in high school.
“I need to do some laundry. It’s slim pickins’ at home.” He laughed. “And, I know how you like lookin’ at my arms, so I grabbed this shirt intentionally.” He lifted up his arms and kissed each bicep.
I stuck my tongue out and made a gagging sound. “Oh my God, you’re nauseating. Where did you get that anyway?”
“This old thing?” He pinched the fabric clinging to his chest. “Eh, I picked it up somewhere along the way.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Well, I hope you brought you’re A game because it’s going to take more than a pretty set of arms to distract me, which is the only way you’ll beat me. It’s sad that this pathetic routine works on the ladies you pick up.”
“It does, like a charm.” He raised his eyebrows and grinned.
I started to walk out, but stopped and grabbed my phone. It was too quiet, and the gym was equipped with a pretty kick ass sound system.
“Oh no, no, no,” Vance cut in, “we’re not listening to that pop crap you listen to. Put my stuff on. My phone’s in the outside pocket of my bag.”
“What? No way. I don’t want to listen to your screaming hate rock.”
“And I don’t want to listen to your bubblegum pop shit. It makes my ears bleed.”
I turned slowly and looked at him with a grin. “Winner’s choice? First one to get pinned picks the music.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
I put my phone next to the docking station and walked out to meet him. I bowed then he bowed. We both stepped sideways, mirroring each other’s moves. He moved first and grabbed me on the side of my neck and tried to knock me off my feet by sweeping my legs; it was his opening move and was easy to predict.
“That the best you got?” I said, meeting his energy. I reached up and grabbed him on the side of the neck, starting us into a spin.
“Well, I figured you’d be rusty. You’ve been sittin’ on your ass for a week. Thought I’d take it easy on you.” His voice was strained as we continued spinning, each of us trying to get the advantage.