elaborate?
Answer: Not really.
It went like this the whole time, but like a good little reporter, I took down his answers without comment. At the end, I had a few specific ones just for him from the fans, so I went ahead and asked those, not expecting much.
“Can you tell me about your scar?” I asked.
Dex shrugged. “Got it in a fire. A board fell on me as I was running out.”
“A fire?” I repeated.
“Yeah,” he said. “I was just a kid. It was the house we grew up in. Bad wiring in the kitchen or something.”
“Did everyone get out okay?” I asked.
Dex nodded. “Emmy ran back in there to save the dog, but I ran in after her and pulled her out. It was all good.”
“Wait,” I said, putting my pen down. “So you ran in to save your sister and ended up scarred because of it? That’s pretty brave.”
“Nah,” he said, “she was the brave one. She was only nine for God’s sakes, and she just takes off, running into a burning house. She loved that pup like nothing else.”
I thought he was downplaying his role, but now that he was actually answering in complete sentences, I was afraid to say something to stop the flow of words.
“So Emmy saved her? The dog, I mean?”
“Him,” he said. “And yeah, she did.”
“And you saved Emmy?”
“I guess.”
I smiled at that. “I love it when the dog lives in the end. Don’t you?”
Annnd apparently our bonding time was over because Dex crossed his arms. “Whatever,” he said. “Is that all?”
“Yes,” I said, packing up my pad and pen. “Thanks again for agreeing to meet with me.”
He grunted. After a beat, he said, “So what’s the deal with you and Archer?”
Sitting back, I mirrored his crossed-arms position. “Deal?” I asked.
“Are you seeing him or what?”
I lifted a brow. “Yes.”
“That means you like him, right?”
“Right.”
“So, is it serious? The thing between you guys?”
“Maybe.”
“Ah come on, what kind of answer is that?” he said.
“Yours.” Dex looked confused, so I decided to clarify. “Not so nice is it? When you want info and the person you’re trying to get it from is being all evasive and difficult.”
As I continued to stare him down, his face suddenly cleared a small smile appearing.
“Ah honey,” he said, “difficult is my middle name.”
“I’ll be sure to include that in the article,” I said.
He gave a slow nod. “You’re okay, Honor.”
“You, too, Dex.” I stood from the table and shook his hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go home and change for girls night. Thanks again. It was definitely my hardest interview yet.”
“My pleasure,” he said, grinning as he ran a thumb over my knuckles, and I shook my head.
“You guys really are shameless aren’t you?” I asked.
In answer, Dex shrugged and walked away, leaving me there staring at his back.
Difficult, I thought.
Yeah, that’s an understatement.
“Alright, who told them we’d be here?”
Glancing up, I looked over to where Charlie was glaring and froze.
“I thought we agreed not to tell Team Testosterone we were coming,” she said. “That it would be more fun without Emmy’s brothers tagging along. Rose?”
Rose held up her hands. “Hey, it wasn’t me.”
“Honor?” Charlie said. “Did you say something to Dex when you interviewed him today?”
Thinking back on it, I remembered the parting shot I delivered then winced. “I may have inadvertently revealed our plans for girls night.” She groaned, and I hurried to add, “But I didn’t tell him when it was or where we were going.”
As we watched them enter, one after the other, Dex and the bartender did one of those hugs guys do where they hit each other on the back. They exchanged a few words, then I saw the guy tip his head in our direction.
“Just our luck,” Charlie said on a sigh. “They have a guy on the inside. The bartender is a narc.”
Five sets of gray eyes landed on our booth in the corner, and a moment later, the brothers started heading our way.
“And here they come,” Rose murmured. “Damn, they look like an ad for Hot-Athletes-R-Us or something. Someone should give those guys a modeling contract. Or write a book series about them.”
“Walter says they’re like a boy band,” I added.
“That works, too” she said.
It was sort of intimidating, seeing them in line, moving as a unit like that. My eyes snagged on Archer’s as they drew closer. He was looking at me, too, and though I hadn’t had any alcohol, my head felt a bit tipsy