“Open up the door!” Tony waited about a minute, his patience wearing thin. He knew Shelly was inside, and he was pissed at her for making him come all this way. If she’d just answered the phone like a normal person he’d still be home in bed, getting laid by the hot chick he’d met at the bar. “Damnit, Shelly! Open the door before I break a window! I know you’re in there!”
“Go away!”
He could tell by the sound of her voice that she’d been crying. “No. Now open the door. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Then why didn’t you answer your damn phone? I’ve been calling all day.”
Silence, before she said in a reluctant, slightly apologetic tone, “I turned my phone off.”
“Yeah, I figured that out after about a dozen tries.” Tony leaned against the door, frustrated and tired as hell. As soon as he’d found out that she and Peter had broken up he’d been trying to get a hold of her. As far as he was concerned she could do a hell of a lot better than a pretty-boy accountant who wore a different color sweater vest every day of the week.
Sweater vests for Christ’s sakes.
Ever since Tony’s best friend, and Shelly’s brother, Steve, had asked him to look out for her while he was in Iraq, he’d become her stalker. Well, not exactly a stalker, but Tony had taken Steve’s request seriously. He’d kept close tabs on her.
“Come on, honey.” Tony decided to try a different tactic since his He-Man attitude didn’t seem to be working. “Let me in. I have to pee.”
“Go behind a bush,” was Shelly’s response.
“Damnit, Shelly!” So much for that, Tony’s anger was simmering too close to the surface for him to hold it back. “I didn’t come all the way here to talk to you through a door.”
“You shouldn’t have come here at all. I’m a big girl, Anthony. My brother had no right to ask you to babysit me.”
Tony released a harsh breath and leaned his forehead against the door. She knew that he hated when people used his full name. “I swear to God, if you don’t open this f*****g door—” He heard the click that indicated that Shelly had unlocked it, but he knew she wouldn’t open it, she was just that stubborn. By the time he opened the door, Shelly was walking away from him.
“Come on in Mr. Big, black and beautiful,” she said in that teasing tone she used whenever she called him that.
Tony’s gaze automatically fell to her ass, admiring the way the soft roundness filled out the sweats she was wearing. Shit, don’t go there, man. She’s off limits. He closed and locked the door.
“See?” Shelly tossed over her shoulder, the wild waterfall of her thick, auburn curls bouncing with the movement of her head. God, she had great hair. “I’m okay.”
Tony could tell by her tone that she wasn’t. He caught up to her and reached for her arm. “No, you’re not.” He forced her around to face him, his gaze dropping to what she had in her hands. “Oh, hell no, you’re not doing this, baby.” He reached for the quart of ice cream, noticing that it was half gone. “You’ll regret this in the morning.”
“How do you know?” Shelly asked as they as they went back and forth, each trying to take control of the container.
“Because I know you.” It was true. Tony and Steve had grown up as best friends, and had spent a lot of time at each other’s houses. Shelly was only three years younger than them, but she’d always been around when he was at their home. Over the years he’d seen a lot, including that she always seemed to pick the wrong men.
