East End (Hear No Evil Trilogy #1) - Nana Malone Page 0,40

of that matters anymore."

"I know.”

“Okay, how about we not talk about him? Because he's that kind of guy that will try to get under your skin when there's nothing to get under."

"I know. But if there was something you needed to get off your chest, you could tell me."

"There's nothing to tell, love. Go on. Who is in your life now? What type of model or actress are you dating?"

I scowled as I rolled over. "Ah, that's the worst question."

"Oh? If it's the worst question, what's her name?" AJ teased.

"There's no one. No name."

"Oh my God, East Alexander Hale. If you think for a minute that I believe that bullshit, you're fooling yourself. I still remember that day when I caught you kissing Elsa Holiday. You tried to act like you hadn’t been up to anything, but I could see it written all over your face. You'd had your hand up her skirt. My little brother, having his first sexual experience. It was so gross. And I had a feeling you were fumbling it."

Bullshit. I was good. No, you weren’t. "Hey, I figured it out."

"Judging by the line of women dying to date you, I'm sure you did. Or they want to date your millions. Whichever. As long as you're getting some action."

I choked a laugh. "Jesus, AJ."

"What? I'm just saying."

And because she was my sister, I told her the truth. "There is someone who's interesting. But she’s bad news."

"Married?"

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. "No." I scratched at my abs. "No, nothing like that. She's just trouble with a capital T."

AJ laughed. "Oh, but don't you like trouble though?"

I snorted a laugh, remembering exactly what she meant. Isabelle Monroe, the Australian exchange student. My mate, Tommy Fletcher, and I had both fallen hopelessly in love with the new girl at school. Before the end of the school year, Tommy and I had been rolling around on the ground because Isabelle had promised to walk home with both of us. We never recovered our friendship.

"Fucking Tommy Fletcher. I wonder where he is right now."

"Actually, you know, I saw him when he came to Monaco."

I laughed. "He came to Monaco? When?"

"Maybe about six months ago, I think. You know how Mom is. 'Oh, you must speak to the Fletchers. They're coming,' and whatever. She gave him my phone number. So I showed them around the museum and all that. He seemed surprised to find that I hadn't somehow grown out of liking girls."

I rolled my eyes. "Twat."

"Whatever. He's an idiot. Anyway, you will be happy to know he's paunchy and looks like he's had his nose broken more than once."

That did make me feel better. "I guess there's some satisfaction in that." We both laughed thinking about stupid old Tommy Fletcher. "It's good to hear your voice, AJ."

"It's good to hear yours too. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

There was a long pause, and then she asked me the question I knew she would ask. "Does this have anything to do with the ten-year anniversary of Toby’s death?"

She didn't know all of it. She just knew that Toby had died. She didn't know how or why because I hadn’t told her everything we’d found out. I hadn't wanted her to worry, because she’d have known that I would do something stupid. Which obviously, I had done. "Maybe a little. A few months ago we saw Emma, and she really needled us about, you know… about not having done anything and fought harder."

"I can't imagine how hard that is."

"Yeah. It feels like shit honestly, but it is what it is."

"I know the man that you are, East. I know that you love fiercely and protect what's yours. I know that you'll do what you need to do. But you can't do it if you're stressed out and not rested. And if it's a woman keeping you from resting, resolve that issue so you can focus on the important things at hand, yeah?"

"My big sister, forever the wise one. I love you. You know that."

"I love you too. Now, go to bed."

"You first."

I hung up with AJ and then laid back on the bed, trying to sort through the jangled mass in my brain. I could do this. I could stay the hell away from Nyla Kincade.

Or, you could see her. Deliberately direct her away from the London Lords.

Even before that thought formed, I knew it was a ridiculous plan. A recipe for disaster. A very, very