Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,57

toward a young woman in a trainer uniform who clasped an autographed towel to her chest.

“I’m done,” Vlad announced.

The young woman stammered and turned red as she jumped away from Colton like she’d just been caught making out with him. Colton turned around and grinned. “Hey, little butt. Do I still have to give you your baths or what?”

The woman excused herself and scurried away.

“Sweet girl,” Colton said.

“Leave her alone. She is probably still in college. And no, you don’t have to bathe me anymore. I can get the incision wet now.”

Colton gave a last look as the girl walked away. “So does that mean you’re healed, or what?”

Vlad crutched down the hallway. “No. But I get to start putting some weight on it next week and daily rehab.”

“Guess that means Elena doesn’t have to stick around much longer, huh?”

Vlad punched the button for the elevator. “What the hell does that mean?”

Colton shrugged innocently. “You’re going to be up and around on your own soon. No reason for her to stay.”

“I’m not going to be up and around on my own soon. I still have to use crutches for several weeks.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be quite as helpless.”

The elevator arrived, and they walked in together. Vlad punched another button. “What is your point, Colton?”

“Nothing. Just that she might not feel like there’s any reason to stay much longer.”

Vlad imagined throwing Colton against the boards. Instead, he rubbed the center of his chest. The feeling he didn’t like was back.

“You wanna grab some breakfast?” Colton asked. “I can call the guys, see who can meet us.”

The Six Strings Diner was their regular gathering spot, a local-favorite restaurant in downtown Nashville where he and his other highly recognizable pals could eat in peace. More than one painful secret had been shared over plates of enormous American breakfasts.

“Come on,” Colton cajoled. “I’m hungry, and we need to talk about all the sex your characters aren’t having.”

“Fine,” Vlad grumbled. At least it would give him something to do besides sitting at home and waiting for his wife. Colton texted the guys and asked who was available. Mack said he could be there in fifteen, Malcolm in ten, and Noah responded he was on his way. No one else could make it.

“You could just call her, you know,” Colton said as he pulled down the parking ramp.

“If she wanted me to know where she was, she would’ve told me.”

“You’re kind of stubborn, you know that?”

“Shut up.”

Colton obeyed, miraculously. Noah and Malcolm were already at the diner when they arrived and had grabbed their normal table. Colton earned a few surprised gasps and excited points, but for the most part, other customers left them alone. That was one of the reasons the guys ate there. It was a local place with few tourists to interrupt them.

“Good news,” Colton said, dropping into a chair. “Our boy here got clearance to wash his own magnificent ass from now on.”

“I’ve been washing my own ass,” Vlad said, picking up the menu. He had the whole thing memorized, though, so it was really just for hiding behind.

“He’s also really grumpy,” Colton said. “Elena left his morning without telling him where she was going.”

Mack walked in then and joined them at the table. “How’d your appointment go?”

“I am healing on schedule.”

“Well, that’s some news worth celebrating,” Mack said. “But does that mean we don’t get to bathe your stupendous ass anymore?”

“For the last time, I can wash my own ass!”

The waitress appeared right at that moment. She blinked but said nothing. The Six Strings staff was used to bizarre outbursts from their table. The guys all ordered their usual, and the waitress said she’d be back with their coffee and tea.

“Make any progress on the book?” Malcolm asked.

Colton snorted. “I already asked, and they still haven’t kissed.”

Noah groaned. “Come on. Do I have to smoosh their faces together?”

Vlad shook his head. “No. They are still not ready.”

“Or maybe Tony is just a wuss.” Colton shrugged.

Malcolm tsked. “That’s a gendered insult that you need to erase from your vocabulary, Colton.”

“What? No, it’s not. I use that word all the time.”

“It is a merging of wimp and pussy and is used to describe weak men with an implication of effeminacy. You can trace its roots to both misogyny and homophobia.” The guys all stared in reverent silence. Sometimes, Malcolm morphed into a professor, and they all learned something that made them better men. “Our society has allowed men to get away with a