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"Hello."

"I'm Striker. We haven't officially met."

"Nice to meet you."

His eyes flick to me.

"Pleasure's all mine. Haven't seen this asshole look so happy in years."

"I'm not happy."

Fucking traitor.

"See? Practically glowing."

Kierra laughs.

Striker swings the duffel off his shoulder.

"Got some things from your apartment. June packed 'em."

Kierra steps closer.

"Oh, thank goodness. I wasn't looking forward to sleeping in this skirt."

I take the bag before she reaches for it.

"June's his woman," I tell her. "Only reason he remembers which end of his boots goes on first."

Striker presses a hand to his chest.

"That's hurtful."

"Also true."

"She's got my whole heart, brother. And most of my common sense."

Kierra laughs again.

That sound gets under my skin every goddamn time.

I carry the duffel to the couch.

Striker watches me.

Then he looks at Kierra.

Then back at me.

I can practically hear the bastard collecting ammunition.

I'll be hearing about this for the rest of my fucking life.

"Thank June for me," Kierra says. "That was really kind of her."

"Will do."

Kierra opens the bag and pulls out a few clothes.