Making her mouth smile seemed to strain her, but Pamela managed it. “Thank you.” She peered out the window at the blowing rain. “Nasty weather.”
“As I said, it caught me,” Cherry explained, and now she stepped away from Denver. “I was halfway across the parking lot when the downpour started and of course I’d forgotten my umbrella.”
Critical, Pamela said, “But you did have that handsome young man to assist you.”
Crossing his arms, Denver waited to see how Cherry would handle Pamela’s veiled accusation.
She surprised him by smiling, the first mean smile he’d ever seen from her. “Yes, he’s a very good friend of Denver’s and so he gave me a lift. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go change.”
“You keep clothes at a gym?”
“No, but one of Denver’s good friends will loan me something.” She looked at Pamela with a mix of loathing and pity. “It was nice meeting you.” Her gaze flashed over to Denver, but only for a split second before she again focused on Pamela. “Quite...educational.”
Denver watched as she exited the confrontation, drenched, makeup destroyed, holding his shirt in front of her. She didn’t look back, and she kept her shoulders squared, her chin lifted.
He realized he was grinning.
“Very odd, Denver.”
“Yeah. She’s something.” He gave Pamela a mock salute. “Later.”
“Wait.”
His long sigh made his impatience plain.
“Will you attend?”
“Like Cherry told you, we’ll talk about it.” And suddenly he meant it.
Just last night he’d made her a promise to share everything with her, get her thoughts on problems.
Pamela was a problem. The estrangement from his dad was a problem.
His jealousy was the biggest problem.
Starting right now, he’d keep his promise—and hope she’d forgive him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
NOW WEARING DENVER’S SHIRT, Cherry poked her nose into the locker room. It fascinated her, this all-male domain. The rec center got some female members, but not many, not on the scale of the fighters, so while they had a small changing room that included two toilets and sinks with some hooks on the wall, they didn’t have this elaborate setup, an expanse of lockers, benches, open showers...
Did men have no modesty at all? If it weren’t for the wall of lockers, she’d be able to see all the showers. Into the showers. Anyone who might be naked in the shower.
She heard water running, and sucked in a breath. It almost made her cough, but she fended it off in favor of another deep breath.
The room smelled good. Like clean male sweat, aftershave and soap.
The water shut off and she decided it might be prudent to announce herself.
Sounding like a strangled frog, she called out, “Yoo-hoo?”
A static moment of silence preceded a softly muttered curse, then she heard the sound of big feet padding across a wet concrete floor.
Using a towel to dry his naked chest, another towel around his hips, Armie poked his head around the corner. His eyes widened at the sight of her standing there just inside the doorway. “Cherry?”
“Hi.”
Dumbfounded, he looked around her, beyond her, saw she’d come on her own, and gave a slight frown. “This is the locker room, hon.”
“I know.” She nodded down at herself and rushed to explain. “I need something dry and it’s not like there are clothes in the breakroom.” Feeling wicked, she asked, “Anyone else down here?”
“Just me.”
As he walked toward her, one hairy, muscled thigh playing peekaboo with that loosely wrapped towel, she quickly backed up a step.
Expression mocking, he reached past her for a locker, drawing out jeans, a T-shirt and Captain America underwear.
She stared at the bright briefs, inadvertently imagined him in them, and snorted a laugh even as her face went hot.
Lifting a brow, he asked, “Plan to stick around while I dress, or you want to give me a little privacy?”
From behind her, Denver said, “She’ll give you privacy.”
Cherry went rigid. She locked eyes with Armie, taking strength from his amusement, and finally turned to Denver. “Excuse me,” she said, as haughtily as she could, and she stepped out of the room. But since she still needed a change, she only went to the other side of the door and leaned back on the cool, painted concrete block wall.
For a few seconds, no one said anything. Then a locker closed and that seemed to break the silence.