I promise to buy you drinks.”
“Uh, they’re free.”
She snorted. “Okay, so I’ll trek to the bar and be your errand girl while you chat and dance—”
“There’ll be no dancing.”
“Don’t you want to wash your hair in front of everyone at Cadillac’s?” Her lips twitched.
I threw a pillow at her. “It was the best I could do!”
She laughed. “And you looked good, I swear.”
“Liar.” I smiled. “Anyway, Hartford wants to see me tonight. He had family stuff all weekend.”
She groaned. “Fine, invite Hairy. I’m desperate to get out and see everyone. Aren’t you?”
I raised a brow, thinking. “I don’t have a thing to wear.”
“Wear that silk number from London, the one that made Dax’s eyeballs pop out of his head. Maybe try some heels this time.”
“No heels. Ever.” I paused. “Besides, don’t you think a dress is too fancy for Cadillac’s?”
“Nope. Not where there’s a blue-haired British boy popping in to see us.” She squealed, her hands fluttering around. “Oh my God, I wasn’t supposed to tell you. Shit! Spider’s been texting me for days arranging to surprise Dax tonight.”
“What are you talking about?”
She giggled and settled in on the bed, crossing her legs. “Spider’s coming and we’re having a party for Dax’s new house. Declan is supposed to get Dax to Cadillac’s, and I’m supposed to bring you.”
“Me? I don’t understand. And why you are suddenly texting a rock star? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
An impish grin spread across her face. “He only texted a few times.”
“How many?”
She shrugged.
“Spill.”
She just grinned.
I pursed my lips. “I think you have some ’splaining to do.”
“Whatever. It’s nothing. We’re just friends. He’s still in love with some Mila girl.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t say it like that.” Her face flushed a deep red.
“Fine, fine. But now I’m wondering what you two were up to while Dax and I were getting our tattoos . . . oh shit . . . my tattoo. Whatever I wear, it’s got to cover it.” I grimaced.
She ran to her closet and pulled out a short, lime-green dress with a mandarin collar.
“It’s so bright.” I held up my hands to shield my eyes.
“Nah. It’s classy with a bit of slut, and the top is high enough to cover your Union Jack.” She held it up to my frame and I peered down at it. It was short.
“You know I weigh about fifteen pounds more than you, right?”
She pushed it in my hands. “Here. Take it home and try it—and put something besides flats with it.”
“WHAT THE BLOODY hell is eating at you, bro? You’re not even looking at my hands,” Declan said. For the third time, I’d been distracted and had failed to shield a side-kick to the chest he’d given, ending with me flat on my arse on the sparring mat.
I shook it off and stood. Put my fists up. “Nothing. Come on, try again, knobhead. Let’s see how far you get.” I’d been here for an hour, helping him getting some training in. I wasn’t good enough for him—not by a long shot—but his regular partner was on vacation and Declan was, well, driven. Missing a day of sparring was not an option so he took the next best thing. Me.
He slipped his gloves off. “Nope, we’re done. Come on, let’s head to the kitchen and get some lunch.”
“Cool,” is what I said, but internally I wasn’t sure I could stomach anything. My gut swirled from last night and everything Remi had confessed.
We slipped through the back entrance of the packed gym, down a narrow hall, and entered their apartment.
Elizabeth met us in the kitchen and handed us both a cold glass of water. “How’s the roommate situation coming?” she asked as we pulled stuff out of the fridge to make sandwiches.
“Peachy.”
She paused, sending me an odd look. “Oh.”
“What does that mean?” I said.
“It’s just, she’s a pretty girl, and you’re a guy, and maybe I’m wrong, but I thought there was a tiny bit of tension between you.” She smiled and handed me a bag of chips for my sandwich. “Or maybe that was just the frat thing going on between you and her fiancé.”
“He slept with her in London,” Declan murmured. “Fake-married her too.”
Her mouth gaped as she popped Declan on the head. “And you’re just now telling me! What’s wrong with you?”
“Bollocks, I’m sorry it slipped my mind. We came home and we got busy and then the shower and I guess I forgot . . .” He took a swig of water. “A man can’t