Page 67 of The Muse

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“Am I driving her?” I follow him.

He chuckles. “Yes. You’re driving her. And you’re taking the class with her. She had me pick you up proper clothing yesterday. You’re welcome.”

“Dude, I don’t do Pilates.”

He refills his coffee mug. “Dude, I wrote a check for five grand. You definitely do Pilates. Yoga. Ballroom dancing …”

I bite my tongue while he sits at the counter, wearing a smirk that acknowledges just how hard I’m biting it.

“Did you have a nice weekend?” he asks.

“It was okay. I bought June a car.”

He pauses his mug at his mouth. “Wow. Things must be serious.”

“Things are …” I shake my head. “I think. I don’t know. They’re what they are. But she needed a car.”

“Is that what she said?”

“No, but ride-sharing every day has to be expensive.”

“Was she complaining about it?”

I shake my head.

“Did she say she needed a car?”

Again, I shake my head.

“Well, Flynn. In theory, a car sounds like a great gift. But it’s like encouraging someone to get a cat.”

I frown.

“If it requires maintenance that you’re not providing, then mind your own business.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Callie interrupts us, padding into the kitchen in pink workout attire, hair pulled into a small ponytail. “Flowers require maintenance or they will die. Jewelry requires cleaning. Clothes must be laundered.” She sets Loki down, and he weaves between my legs.

“Callie, he bought June a car.”

“Oh?” she says, filling a sports bottle with filtered water from the fridge. “Was she excited?”

“Yeah.”

I think.

“Then good for you.”

Rupert shakes his head.

“I met her parents last night,” I say.

Her eyes widen as she screws on the lid. “How did that go?”

“Great. I think they like me.”

“Well of course they do,” she says.

“Interesting.” Rupert scratches his chin. “How much did you share about yourself?”