The Note (Manhattan Nights #5) - Natalie Wrye Page 0,58

last night. This morning I ran out.”

“Shocker.”

“I was going to bite the bullet, you know. Buy another box? But then I heard that Nancy was in and out today and I figured it would a great time to grab them before the Hell-Beast came back here.”

“Hell-beast?” I shut the door to my locker, turning on Drew. “Now it’s this? The insults. The arguing. I don’t get it,” I hiss.

“Me neither.” Drew bites his lips. “I still blame the stick up her nether-regions.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly talking about that, but you would know about ‘sticks in nether-regions,’ being an expert at ‘stick-giving’ from what I hear all the way across the hall…”

He pauses. “Did you just pay me a compliment, Fee?”

“More like an observation. A very disturbing observation.” I shudder. “But don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to telling you to kiss my ass by morning.”

“Duly noted.”

I slap his arm, sending Drew on his way. His low laughter still reaches me from the other side of the room, as he turns, catching my ear, his subsequent words stopping me in my tracks in seconds.

“So, I snuck in the back door about five minutes ago. And noticed that someone was lurking back there.”

I lift a brow. “You sure it wasn’t one of the women you used those on? Or have you lost count?” I nod at the Trojan box in his hands, and he smiles, shifting on his feet.

“No, I’d never let a woman know where I work. What do you take me for? An amateur?”

I glance at the box. “Who could? Gauging by the size of those condoms.”

He continues with a smirk. “Exactly… Besides, Fee, this wasn’t a female someone hanging out in the back lot. This was a male someone. A very curious male someone.”

I clamp the lock on my metal locker with a click, pulling to make sure it’s secure. I start to head towards the front of the restaurant, no longer in the mood for this conversation, my exhaustion settling into my skin and bones as I walk away from Drew without another glance.

“Sounds interesting,” I toss over my shoulder on my way out.

“It sure was,” Drew talks at my back as I walk away. “Especially when he asked about you.”

My feet jerk suddenly to a stop, skidding across the cracked tile beneath my feet.

I spin to see Drew still standing there, still leaning beside my locker. The small crescent moon shape of his lips only makes me madder as I pivot on my heel, heading back in his direction, my heart thumping wildly when I reach him.

He’s enjoying the suspense. The crazy fucker.

“Okay, Drew, now you know I love you like a brother…”

He nods. “I do.”

“A very annoying, very arrogant older brother. But listen to me…” I inch closer, tilting my five-foot-six height up to his six-foot face. “I will stab you with one of our plastic takeout forks, if you don’t start talking. I’m not very good with suspense.”

Drew shrugs, his casual t-shirt spreading over his muscular chest. He exhales soundly. “As much fun as being attacked with plastic sounds, I’d have to say: I’m willing to give up the goods. Especially now that I know you’re seeing someone…”

My brow furrows. “What?”

Drew leans in. “And you were almost successful at hiding it.” He folds his bulging forearms, the tattoos on his skin straining against the muscle, his dark hair mussed. “Who knew that Sophia Somerset was hiding a boyfriend? Especially the suited type. And here I thought you’d get married to your vibrator, and we’d all have to throw batteries at your wedding instead of rice, just to make sure the matrimony lasted past the first few buzzes.”

I nearly growl. “That threat I made still stands. Keep talking, Drew…”

“But you can relax for now. The guy out there wasn’t your boyfriend who showed up two days ago at the bar. This suit was someone else. And he was loitering behind the building, asking if I knew if you were here.” I wait for him to respond, moisture peppering the space just above my brows, suspense keeping me rooted to the spot as Drew draws out the longest story in the history of mankind, a smile screwed on his handsome face. He inclines closer, dropping his deep voice to a whisper. “I said you weren’t.”

“Good,” I answer, letting a long breath out. “Because you know just as well as I do that Noah is not my damned boyfriend, I probably will marry my vibrator, and