“Celebrating being alive, baby!” Jordan whooped loudly. “It’s lit down here. I’ll text you the address.”
“Jordo—” But he didn’t get the rest of the word out, even, before the line went dead.
No chance to tell Jordan he wasn’t going to show up.
Immediately his phone buzzed, before he even made it back to the table. Jordan had only sent him a pin drop. And then a whole string of incomprehensible emojis.
Nate grimaced and decidedfuck it. Jordan was fine. How much trouble could he get into at a strip club called the Pussy Palace?
Worst-case scenario, he’d get drunk and belligerent and they’d kick him out and he’d slink back to his apartment and wake up with the hangover from hell tomorrow morning.
He texted back:wish I could bud, but I’m a little busy right now.
“Everything okay?” Ramsey asked when he sat back down to finish his dinner.
“Jordan,” he murmured under his breath, “but I took care of it.”
He wanted to feel as sure as he sounded, but he wasn’t. His phone buzzed once, then twice, but he didn’t pull it out of his pocket until the waiter was clearing their empty plates and he heard a third buzz.
Are you fucking serious?
Then,I guess you fucking are, dude. Guess the cock’s really that good.
And third, just:big dog
The whole string would’ve been much easier to dismiss if he hadn’t sent the third message, long after the first two.
There was something about that last message. A plea, unspoken.
Nate drummed his fingers on the table, and a second later, Ramsey’s hand gripped his thigh, squeezing it tightly.
Without Ramsey asking, Nate knew what he wanted and tilted the phone screen so Ramsey could read it too.
He was pretty sure Ramsey wanted him to see his concern. Otherwise, he’d have hidden it, and Nate would be left in the dark.
It made him feel warm andseen, to be deliberately included like this. But then a fourth text came through.
shit big dog
Concern superseded the warmth, immediately.
He felt terrible that he was going to have to bail and leave before they’d totally finished their date.
Maybe he could meet up with the three of them at Vault later, after he’d checked in with Jordan.
But before he could open up his mouth to make his apologies to Brody and Dean, Ramsey spoke up. “Sorry, guys,” he said regretfully, “but Nate and I are gonna have to take off.”
“What?” Nate asked in disbelief. “You’re not—”
“I’m coming with you,” Ramsey said in a voice that brooked no disagreements. He turned to Brody and Dean. Brody was smirking.
“Can’t even keep it in your pants for a whole dinner?” Brody teased.
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “No. Nate’s got a player in trouble, and well, I’m not letting him deal with it alone.”
Nate had known he and Ramsey were heading towards that package deal sort of relationship—theNate-and-Ramseytype—but he hadn’t expected Ramsey to embrace it so quickly or so completely. Apparently Brody hadn’t either, because he looked happy but also straight-upshocked.
“Shit,” Dean said eloquently. He turned to Brody. “I hate it when you’re right.”
