Whatever Life Throws at You by Julie Cross Read Free Book Online

insignificant friends. But Johnson touches my arm and says in a low voice, “Not so fast, young lady.”
    Lenny takes in the situation and looks at me. “Meet you outside in five, Annie?”
    I nod, not knowing what else to do. My heart thuds, the sound blocking out the music, and Brody shifts beside me.
    Johnson leans in closer, still wearing the fake smile. To an outsider, this could almost look like a friendly conversation. But I know better. Especially with all this tension rolling around between us.
    “I don’t know what you’re playing at, going after ballplayers. But this is not the image I want my Royals’ families portraying,” Johnson says. “I won’t tolerate bad PR. Not from your daddy and certainly not from you. That’s one strike, young lady.”
    Heat rushes to my face. My mouth falls open, but I can’t form any words. What the hell kind of cult did we get ourselves into?
    Johnson turns to Brody. “And you came into this gig two strikes in the hole, son. Consider yourself at two and a half. Dragging innocent children into a bar late at night…” Oh, so now I’m an innocent child? What happened to me going after ballplayers? Or maybe Lenny is the innocent child? “I heard you’d done some pretty bad things, but this is way outside of my comfort zone.”
    “He didn’t—” I start to say. Why the hell am I defending Jason Brody—but Brody pushes me from behind toward the exit.
    “Don’t worry,” he says to Johnson, his voice tight and restrained. “It won’t happen again. Trust me.”
    “That’s the problem,” Johnson says, all smooth and old-man-business like. “I don’t trust you. I doubt anyone in their right mind trusts an ex-convict.”
    Ex-convict? Jesus Christ. Are we going to have to ride home together?
    When I don’t walk fast enough for Brody, our bodies collide. The hardness of him presses against me, and then I inhale his aftershave. My thoughts fog up. This is probably how he lured the redhead to the London’s pool house the other night. And how he almost repeated the performance with the brunette now sulking in the corner. Good thing for Lenny London and her panty-snatching skills.
    “Please tell me you have your own car,” I mumble when we reach the door.
    “Right,” Brody snaps. “Because that’s entirely possible on my minor league salary. And important when I’m on the road with the team over two hundred days a year.”
    “So no, then?”
    He groans and shoves the door open, pushing his way around me and heading straight for Lenny’s brand-new beamer. It’s a two door, so Brody’s forced to allow me a second to crawl into the backseat before dropping in beside Lenny.
    Lenny laughs when she sees both of us, obviously pissed off. “Fun night, huh? We should do this again sometime soon.”
    “Not a chance in hell,” Brody grumbles. He slides down in the seat, like he’s hiding from being seen in Lenny’s car even though it’s dark and probably no one is paying attention or even cares.
    Lenny blasts the music, sensing that we’re not up for small talk. I recognize the first song as one the band in the bar had played. I guess she really is a fan. When we turn onto our street, Lenny glances over her shoulder at me. “Should I drop you at your house?”
    “Uh-uh.” Brody shakes his head. “Johnson’s already got ideas. I’m not having Jim think I spend my free time clubbing with high school girls.”
    I roll my eyes. “Right. ’Cause your nineteen-year-old self is so much older and wiser than us seventeen-year-olds.”
    “I’m sixteen,” Lenny corrects. “Summer birthday.”
    “Older and wiser is not the issue. More like legal.” Brody points to his chest. “And not legal.” He waves a finger between both me and Lenny.
    According to Johnson, he’s had no problem doing the illegal things in the past.
    “He likes his women leggy and independent,” Lenny says, while avoiding my house, taking us around the block and eventually pulling into