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“Last night or this morning?”

“Does it matter?”

She grinned. “This morning it was.”

“I don’t know why you’re so happy. You don’t like him, remember?”

“I don’t, but I like the fact you got you some.”

I cleared my throat. I didn’t want to talk about it. At all. Not even gossip. “Can we move on?”

“Yes, but now I have to know what he did to make you storm out. Is he selfish?”

“Um, no.” My cheeks flushed.

“Well, then, I’m out, because there’s gotta be something wrong with you.”

I rested my head on my hand again. “I kinda asked him a stupid question and didn’t drop it when I should have. He got pissed off, I got pissed off, so I left.”

Abby frowned, and then, “Oh God. You didn’t ask him if it was in yet, did you? Jesus—is that it? Does his ego make up for his dick? I knew it.”

“Um, well, no,” I choked out. “The ego…matches…his dick.”

“What the hell did you do?”

“Whose side are you on here?”

“Right now? His.” She wiggled her fingers and ticked things off. “Hot. Rich. Big dick. Sexually generous. What the hell is wrong with you, girl?”

Who was this person, and where was my best friend? There was no way in hell she’d say this about Damien. Any other guy, sure. But him?

“I’m not saying I was right in leaving, but he made it perfectly clear the conversation was over.” Why the hell was I justifying myself? “I went upstairs to get changed, and when I got back down, he’d disappeared. I took that as my cue to leave, so I did.” She didn’t need to know I’d already called a cab.

“Did you look for him?”

“No. Would you have?”

She paused, pouted, and tilted her head as if she was thinking about it. “Honestly, it depends how good the sex was.”

I said nothing. My blush said it for me.

A slow grin eased across her face. “Was it dirty?”

“I’m not talking about this!”

“It was dirty. I can tell. Does he fuck like a porn star?”

“Abby!” Oh my God, why wouldn’t my cheeks stop burning? Even my stomach was clenching with embarrassment. I was seconds from going up in flames, I was sure of it.

“What are—why are you blushing? Oooh!” Fergus clapped his hands together, appearing in my doorway. “Mhmm,” he hummed knowingly, looking me over. “The eggplant met the taco, didn’t it?”

Abby burst into hysterical laughter.

I stared at him, half-hyperventilating, half-trying not to laugh. What? What did I just hear?

What was happening?

Fergus made a circle with his left hand and poked his right pointer finger through the open space. His lips were pursed and his eyebrows arched so high, he could have given teenage girls a run for their money in the smug, sarcastic expression fight.

“What is happening?” I whispered.

“The. Egg. Plant,” Fergus said oh-so-slowly, “Met. The. Taco.”

I was going to be traumatized beyond belief when this conversation sunk in.

“I’m not doing this anymore.” I stood and grabbed both of them. Then, with all my might—and no resistance from them, I might add—I dragged them to the door, shoved them in the hall, and slammed the door behind them. And I freaking well locked it. “Go away!”

I have no idea what just happened, why Abby did a one-eighty on Damien, or why Fergus was talking about eggplants and tacos. I was still stuck with my cheeks burning like I was fifteen after my first kiss, except it was times a hundred in the embarrassment.

I pressed my hands to my cheeks and closed my eyes, ignoring their laughter on the other side of the door.

Assholes.

“Uh, Dahlia?” Fergus managed through his giggles. He knocked three times.

“What?” I snapped, my humiliation now at its highest level. Ever. In my life.

“Damien is at the bar, waiting for you.”

I turned so quickly I almost fell over. I yanked at the door, but of course, I’d fucking locked it, so I turned the key and tried again. “What do you mean,” I said, glaring at them, “he’s at the bar? Abby! You said you told him I wasn’t here!”

“I did,” she answered, not caring. “I didn’t say Fergus didn’t.”

“I’m not here.” I grabbed the door to slam it again.

“Too late.” Fergus grinned. “I already told him you were.”

“You’re fired.”

Eighteen

Dahlia

His raucous laughter answered me. We all knew I didn’t mean it. It was my knee-jerk reaction to what he’d said. I wasn’t happy, but I also knew that Fergus had thrown me under the bus and just driven the damn thing right on over me.

So, I did the only thing I could.

I shut the door.

Of course, that only made them laugh again. Abby was seriously on the way to having her best friend card revoked again, and Fergus and I were gonna have to have a little chat about how I was never to be in the bar when Damien showed up.

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