Filthy Vows - Alessandra Torre Page 0,42

where’s he gonna go? Back to his mom’s?”

“He could get a hotel,” I said, then realized how sullen I sounded.

Easton sighed. “Come on, Elle. Work with me here. If you’re uncomfortable around him, then I’ll keep you guys apart. But it’s Aaron. You love him. I don’t know why you’re acting like everything has suddenly changed.”

Maybe I was blowing this out of proportion. I’d lived with them before, for two weeks when I’d been in between apartments. It’d been fine. Unremarkable. A little annoying, their bromance one that sometimes made me feel like a third wheel. But fine. I could do it again.

He kissed the top of my head. “Are we good?”

“Yeah.” I looked down at the Aladdin slot machine, where 14 credits remained. Reaching out, I hit the Max Bet button and watched as the dials spun. Aladdin, Jasmine, and Jafar lined up in uneven formation, the omen eerie with its timing.

“Come on.” Easton slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me onto my feet. “Let’s find the others and get something to eat.”

16

After the dry Vegas heat, Miami felt like an oven set to steam. My shoes still on, I laid on the top of the covers and listened to the drone of the lawnmower. On a normal day, I might have stood at the window and watched the man, admiring the way his shirt clung to his muscular back, his strong legs churning against the freshly cut grass as he pushed the walking mower.

Now, I didn’t have time for a fantasy about my sexy landscaper. I had bigger issues, which were currently occupying both ends of our living room couch, their feet kicked up on the ottoman, beers in hand, their eyes glued to the TV, masculinity reeking off them and infecting the room.

I’d popped the cap off my own beer and joined them, drawn forward by the familiar sound of the game. I’d avoided the couch and settled back in the big red leather recliner, tucking my feet underneath me and staring at the screen.

I’d lasted ten minutes before I’d realized that Aaron was studiously ignoring me. Every comment I made, every glance I shot over—he was polite and engaged in the game, but stiff as a board around me.

I hated it and left the room, making an excuse about needing a shower.

From the direction of the living room, dual shouts rang out. Easton yelled something at the top of his lungs. I shifted onto my side and wondered what had happened.

This was ridiculous, me in our bedroom, hiding out like a leper. I tilted my head toward the closet door and considered changing into something nice and going out. The realtors in our office were having a wine and cheese event at a downtown bar. I could join them, though the idea of hobnobbing with that many botox-enhanced foreheads sounded exhausting. Plus, I had no new contracts. No new listings. No achievements to casually drop while everyone else rattled theirs off under the guise of shop talk. My gaze drifted to the tall suitcase, parked by the closet door where it had sat for the last two days. We would both ignore it, avoiding the gold Samsonite until the dire moment when Easton needed his electric razor, or I wanted my red sling-backs.

The door handle jiggled and I turned as the heavy brass lever turned. The door eased open and Easton stuck his head in. “Hey. Halftime just started. Did you already get a shower?”

“Not yet.” I rolled toward him and sat up. “I didn’t want to do it with Luke in the backyard, given the broken blinds.” I nodded in the direction of the backyard, where the weed-eater roared to life. “It’s almost dark. Why’s he here so late?”

“No idea.” He looked at our bathroom blinds, which were stacked next to the dresser, needing to be taken to the trash can. They were on the same wait-until-the-other-person-does-it schedule that our suitcase was, and in tattered shreds thanks to an enthusiastic attempt by Wayland to catch a moth. “Want me to have him stop? Aaron and I can finish up whatever he hasn’t gotten to.”

“No.” I stood up and stretched. “I think I’ll change and go to the gym. What’s the score?”

“Tied.” He watched as I worked open the buttons on my shirt. “Aaron’s running over to Bobalo’s to pick up a pizza. So…” He maneuvered around the blinds and tugged at my shirt, pulling me closer to him.

I let out a strangled laugh