to get out. For all of Milo’s talk that he was tired of it, he doesn’t rush to exit either. Dante turns in his seat, finding me in the back. “Probably should have told you yesterday, that’s my brother’s house over there.” His head nods to the cheery yellow house with the wraparound porch.
“It’s your house too Dante,” Milo intones.
“I like my privacy. My brother’s staff are always around over there so I moved into the loft a year or so ago.”
“I thought your brother lived far away.” Dante’s eyes narrow. “I mean… Maggie mentioned he was moving back so I assumed he didn’t live here.” I wave my hand at the picturesque house to my right.
Dante turns back to the front. “Yeah he moved out a little over a year ago.” It’s not lost on me that the two time frames are very close together. Could there be more to why Ares moved out, or why Dante isn’t staying in the house anymore? He opens his door and leans the seat forward for me. Bracing my arm on the driver’s seat, I let my left leg find the ground. Dante doesn’t move away so I have to shimmy past him to get out. Once I back away from him I rub my hands over my hips, straightening my t-shirt.
Why does their presence affect me so much? Half the time I can’t figure out if Milo and Dante hate me or not. Ollie seems to be the only one who does more than tolerate me. It’s him that wraps his arm around my neck and guides me to the stairway.
Dante heads right for the fridge, pulling out three cans of cola, before snagging another. He doesn’t ask if anyone wants a drink, he just hands them out, stopping on me last. I don’t drink much soda, but I take the offered can anyway. The sugar might actually do me good.
Not sure how to get things started, I look around the room. A few sheets of paper are still lying on the floor near the sofa. I place my drink on the kitchen counter and head over to clean up the mess I left and see if my keys turn up. I drop to my knees much like yesterday, and lean down to get the piece half under the couch. As I pull it out something red catches my eye. On top of my paper is a tiny scrap of lacy red material that couldn’t be anything but a pair of panties. Dante rounds the couch the second I pull the sheet out. I jerk my hand away, for those panties to have ended up on top of my paper, they would have had to have been left here after my bag broke yesterday afternoon. A bitter laugh escapes me.
“Well those aren’t mine.” I motion to the offending item. Dante is stock-still, his face is ashen, while his lips are rolled in. Milo walks over and peers over his friend’s shoulder. His eyes go wide but he doesn’t utter a word.
“Did you find someone else’s keys?” Ollie questions, making his way over. “Those definitely aren’t keys.”
“Can you at least move them, so I can get my paper, I’m not touching them.” I wave my hand over the panties, when Dante doesn’t make a move to do anything with them.
Dante snaps out of his frozen posture and crosses his arms over his chest, widening his legs. “Are you sure they didn’t fall out of your bag, I mean they’re on top of your stuff.”
I suck in a sharp breath. How dare he accuse me of leaving them here? “They aren’t mine,” I growl through gritted teeth and stand, unable to keep glaring at him from the floor. My fingers tremble, and my eyes prick with the sensation of brimming tears.
“You probably wouldn’t admit to it if they were yours. Why would you have spare panties in your bag?” The implication is clear; he thinks I’m easy.
I take a step closer and point my finger at his chest. “I’ll say it again since your small brain didn’t understand me the first time. They are not mine. And if they were, it would be none of your fucking business why they were in my bag.” Another step. “I’ll have you know, you assuming ass, that there are plenty of reasons a girl might have a change of clothes with her that has nothing to do with what you’re insinuating.” I jab my finger into