Feeling Hot by Elle Kennedy

take chances with your safety. Until Brendan is gone, I refuse to leave you unprotected.”
    An arrow of guilt pierced her chest. Carson sounded so genuinely concerned that she felt like an ass for the way she’d bitched at him all morning. “I know. I’m sorry I’m being such a brat.”
    “’S’all good. I’m used to your brattiness.”
    He reached out and tugged on the end of her ponytail, the way he’d always done when they were kids, and Jen couldn’t help but smile. As infuriating as Carson could be, he was still her big brother and she loved him something fierce. Besides, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right. She didn’t feel safe. She’d been on edge ever since Brendan started playing these sick games with her, and although she wasn’t convinced her ex would actually cross the line from creepy to violent, she’d definitely breathe easier once he left town.
    “Come on, let’s go in,” Carson said, linking his arm through hers.
    Jen’s anxiety returned once they entered the building. She wondered how Cash would react when he saw her. If he even remembered her. A guy as good looking as him probably hooked up with ten girls a night. What if she’d just been another one of his faceless conquests?
    Lugging her bags, Carson crossed the small, clean lobby toward the stairwell door. “Cash and Matt are on the second floor,” he told her. “But Matt’ll be staying with his girlfriend while you’re here.”
    When they reached the second floor landing, Carson led her to a door at the very end of the hall. “Oh, and Ryan and Annabelle live upstairs,” he went on. “So if you want to do any girlie things, just call Annabelle. You met her, right?”
    Jen nodded. Although she’d yet to meet her brother’s newer teammates, she knew most of the older ones well, along with their wives and girlfriends. Out of all the women, Annabelle Holmes was her favorite. They’d gone out for dinner a few times, and she’d hung out with the sarcastic brunette at Carson’s thirty-fourth birthday party last month, so it was a relief knowing that Annabelle would be nearby.
    “By the way, I told Mom and Dad that your apartment is being fumigated,” Carson added. “So if they call, tell them you were overrun with ants.”
    “Ants? That’s what you came up with?”
    He shrugged. “First thing that popped into my head.”
    They reached the door, which Carson opened without bothering to knock first. “McCoy,” he called. “Come say hi to Jenny.”
    She cringed. Of course, he just had to refer to her by the name she hadn’t used since grade school.
    As Carson dropped her two huge suitcases on the hardwood floor with a thump, Jen examined her surroundings. The apartment looked like a typical bachelor pad—no surprise there. It featured an open-concept layout, with a spacious living room boasting a black leather couch, two big armchairs, a flat screen mounted on the wall, and an entertainment system that screamed man cave . A small kitchen with stainless-steel appliances and an eat-in counter took up the other side of the room, next to a dining area with a big glass table and a shelf lined with an assortment of beer glasses. Her gaze flicked to the corridor in the back, which she deduced led to the bedrooms.
    When footsteps thudded from the vicinity of that corridor, her pulse kicked up a notch, then took off in a mad sprint at Cash’s appearance.
    Oh boy. He was as gorgeous as she remembered. Actually, even more gorgeous, because instead of a leather jacket, today he wore a black T-shirt that clung to his massive chest and revealed his bulging biceps. Jeez, he had great arms. Tanned, sinewy, roped with muscle. The kind of arms you wanted pinning you down while those trim hips pumped into you.
    The rest of him was equally appealing. Long legs encased in camo pants, strong jaw dusted with stubble, black-brown hair cut in a short military style. Her nipples tightened involuntarily, her core clenching at