“So…”

“Yeah?” I look over at the stick-thin, just walked off a fashion show, runway model staring at me across my old kitchen table. I want to like her. I don’t think I do. She’s loud, but that’s not why. She’s beautiful, and even though that’s intimidating, that’s not even why. The reason is simple. I heard Michael call her Hummingbird and I watched him hug her—affectionately. Now I’m trying really hard not to hate her.

“You and Beast do the mattress mambo yet?” she asks, with a grin on her face that I find myself wanting to slap off there. Her husband, a man Michael introduced as Crusher spits out his coffee.

“Hellcat, behave,” he chastises. His face taking on a warning look. He’s good looking, though definitely not in the same zip code as Michael. He’s got dark hair, and his skin is a golden tan, but you can tell it’s been warmed by hours in the sun. He’s got weathered lines on his face that crinkle with a peace, even happiness when he looks at his wife. I wish for a moment that I could elicit the same kind of response from Michael.

“What, Zander? It was a simple question.”

“One you don’t have a right to ask.”

“Beast is my friend. I have every right,” she dismisses her husband’s concerns.

“Is that all you are?” I find myself asking, and I can admit that jealousy is eating me alive.

“What are you asking?”

“Ladies, I think now would be a good time to—”

“Stay out of this, Zander. She’s got questions, I think the least I can do is answer them.”

“Jesus, Hellcat, quit stirring up drama. Don’t you think Hayden has been through enough.”

“I think Beast has been through enough. He needs a woman who is strong, who can help him heal.”

“I don’t need sympathy,” I tell him at the same time Dani answers. Her answer makes me stop though. “You think I’m weak?”

“I think you’re broken,” she says with a frank honesty that I could almost admire.

“So? I’m still here,” I tell her totally bluffing. I hate that she sees me as weak. I hate it because that’s exactly how I see myself.

“But why I wonder? Are you here because you care about Beast or because you need someone to save you?” I can see it in her eyes that she genuinely cares for Michael, but that doesn’t stop my jealousy.

“I didn’t ask Michael or anyone to save me,” I tell her, and I swear I think I grunt at the end which sounds a lot like Michael. I fold my arms over my stomach.

“Michael…” she says sounding confused and her face goes pale. “Beast’s name is…Michael?” she gasps.

Her man curses under his breath and puts his arm around her, pulling her into his body. I don’t understand what’s going on. I think I should probably feel pity for Dani, because she looks like someone just killed her puppy or something. Instead, I’m mentally high-fiving myself because she didn’t know Michael’s name. It’s a small victory, but still a victory.

“I guess you don’t know everything about him,” I mutter, unable to stop myself.

“I know if you hurt him, I’ll make you sorry,” Dani snaps back.

“I think that’s about enough. Come on, Hellcat, I know you want to protect your friend, but Hayden is not the enemy,” he says, leaning back in his chair.

“Thank you,” I huff, wondering if he would still take up for me if I scratch his wife’s eyes out.

“No problem. I mean, I think it’s amazing you’re willing to saddle yourself to an overgrown, hairy giant, who looks like he fell out of an ugly tree and hit every damn branch on the way down.” He smirks, appearing so satisfied with his assessment of Michael.

Oh my god! Did he just say that? Suddenly my anger is turned from his wife to Crusher himself. Are these two on crack? I can’t believe Michael took all the others with him, but decided these were the two he should leave me with. He obviously doesn’t know how crazy they are. Maybe they’re on drugs. That’s the only explanation.

“Zander, I can’t believe you said that,” Dani says shaking her head. She has more color now too. Which is unfortunate, because she looks pretty again. I’d rather she be pale and at least not model-of-the-month pretty when Michael comes back.

“I can’t either. There’s nothing ugly about Michael,” I bark, getting up to put my dishes in the sink. I don’t think I want to sit and pretend to be friendly to his friends anymore. I’m pretty much thinking they’re not his friends. No wonder all he does is grunt. Who would waste time talking if these were the kind of people you had around you?

“Come on now girls, he’s so freaking big. Hell, he practically has to bend down and walk sideways to get through a damn door.”

“You’re exaggerating now. What are you up to?” Dani asks watching her husband and she’s almost smiling. I decide to ignore her, I’m too upset over the way this man—who is supposed to be someone Michael trusts, is talking about him.

“He’s not too tall. He’s just right,” I mutter. “I like that he’s so tall. It makes me feel small and…safe,” I continue, not realizing I’ve said that last part out loud.

“Well, okay, but you can’t deny he’s hairy. That man has so much hair he—”

“I like his hair too. And he let me trim it and you can definitely see his eyes now and how they twinkle when he laughs. Besides he’s got beautiful hair,” I lament remembering Michael’s laugh, as I rinse my dishes in the sink.

“You make him laugh?” that comes from Dani, and I like that she sounds surprised.

Score! Another point for me.

“Well, I guess keeping his hair long is good. I mean it covers all those scars. Those can’t be easy for a woman to look at all day,” Crusher says and that’s enough.

I’m holding my cup in my hand and I’m fed up. I spin around and throw it at him, wishing it was one of the heavier ones instead of being lightweight and some useless metal. “I think that’s enough. Michael is supposed to be your friend. He’s been nothing but nice to both of you, and I won’t allow anyone in our home talking badly about him.”

“Our home?” he asks, holding the cup—which unfortunately he caught. He’s also got this look on his face that says he may laugh at any moment, and he and Dani are both smiling.

I think I hate them. I want them out of here. Michael doesn’t need people like this in his life. No wonder he’s so closed off at times. “Exactly and you will not talk about him like you have been. Michael is beautiful, he’s kind, caring and he’s a real man.”

“A real man?” Crusher asks, and this time, he does laugh—the asshole.

“Yes! He doesn’t need to belittle someone about the way they look, so he can feel better about himself,” I growl, and this time, Dani laughs.

“She’s got you there, Cowboy,” she giggles. Giggles!

“I wasn’t belittling him, whatever the hell that is. I was just simply stating facts. He is covered in scars,” he returns, and now I get the feeling he’s watching me closely. Good. Let him, because once I tell him off, I want him out the door. I won’t have Michael hurt by his stupidity.

“I like his scars.”

“You—”

I cut the man off before he can continue. “I like his scars. They’re a part of him. They show that he endured something horrific, but he is still alive. They show he’s strong, and tested by the world. They show he is a survivor. He’s someone you should admire and be glad to call a friend, not put down. He’s more man than you’ll ever hope to be.”

“Damn,” Crusher says, and when I force myself to look up at him, I’m surprised. I see his face is in shock, but more than that, I see…respect.

“I guess she told you, Cowboy. I like you, Hayden. I think you’ll be perfect for Beast,” she says, surprising me.

“Gee thanks. I don’t think I like you,” I mutter, annoyed that she still looks beautiful. About the only mark she has against her is her attitude—which sucks, and part of her finger is missing on one hand, and I kind of feel like a bitch for thinking that makes her less beautiful. Great. She’s probably a better person than I am too. “I’m going to go outside and check the laundry on the line,” I huff, disgusted with myself and them too. I need fresh air—away from them.

“I’ll come with you,” Dani offers.

“I think I’d rather be alone,” I tell her, honestly. I don’t know what I expected, but her laughing wasn’t exactly it.

“Then I’ll stay here and help Zander find his balls,” she snorts.

I pick up the old laundry basket by the pantry shelf and head toward the door.

“I’m all the man you need, Hellcat,” he tells her, and even I can admit his voice sounds kind of sexy—for an idiot.

“For once, I can’t argue with you, Cowboy. You’re one hell of a man,” she says, and I can hear them kiss as the door slams behind me.

They both need medication.