“Are you together?” I ask. It’s probably not an appropriate question, and the tone I used most definitely isn’t. But my tongue is operating on a different wavelength than my brain right now, all systems alarming as I look between them. Shiloh meets my eye, a pull between his eyebrows as he frowns at me.
“Yes. I told you that.”
Told me that? I stare at him, adding confusion to the spin of emotions currently taking me on a ride right now. We’ve had exactly one conversation in the last seven years, and not once did he mention a Dryden Roy. A fuckingboyfriend. Swallowing down the sudden urge to be sick, I shake my head.
“No you didn’t.”
Dryden snorts, muttering something that sounds suspiciously likehere we gounder his breath. Crossing his arms, he leans back against the bar, legs stretched in front of him as though he’s settling in to watch the show.
“I did,” Shiloh tells me, sounding irritated. There’s a hint of color on his tan face. Embarrassment or anger, I don’t know. Shiloh was so very rarely either of those growing up, and certainly not aimed in my direction.
“No,” I correct, “you didn’t.”
He turns to face me fully, Dryden behind him still with arms crossed, as though he’s waiting for Shiloh to need backup. I want to tell him to leave, want to ask Shiloh to go outside so we can talk in private. There’s a touch of worry worming its way into my consciousness, and I’m very aware of the presence of people around us, close enough to listen in.
“Yes, I did,” Shiloh repeats, and now I can hear the anger hardening the words just fine. “Two years ago. Hell, Ewan, are you really so self-centered that you can’t remember anything I fucking told you?”
I rock backward on my heels, subconsciously reeling away from the force of his words. It feels like he shoved me in the chest. His eye contact is almost aggressive now, the flush of hischeeks more apparent. Without even looking over, I can feel Dryden Roy’s unwelcome presence beside us. I pitch my voice low in a modicum of effort to keep him out of the conversation.
“We haven’t talked in seven years, Shiloh. You never told me you were seeing a ma—someone.” Flustered, I feel my own face heat. My heart is poundingsohard right now.
“You didn’t even read them,” Shiloh says, eyes bouncing between mine and voice dropping. He sounds hurt, and I’m apparently not the only one who hears it. Dryden reaches out and puts a hand to the back of Shiloh’s arm.
“Readwhat?Listen, can we go outside for a second and?—”
“Food’s ready,” Ryan interrupts, looking between all of us with interest. He slides a couple of bags over the counter.
“Shi—” I start again, but Dryden cuts across me without even looking my direction.
“Change of plans. You take yours, Loh,” he says. I flinch at the nickname, ice flooding my veins.Loh. “You’ve got your hands full tonight, and I think you and I were about done anyway, weren’t we?”
“What?” Shiloh looks nonplussed, blinking at the other man as he’s handed a bag of takeout.
In answer, Dryden cups a hand under Shiloh’s chin, thumb brushing over his short beard. He smiles, but it’s a cold, detached sort of smile, completely at odds with the gentle gesture. Leaning forward, he kisses Shiloh on the mouth, short and quick.
“Do me—and yourself—a favor, though.” He drops his voice like he’s trying to speak to Shiloh alone, but not low enough that I can’t hear when he adds, “Give him hell.”
Chapter Eight
SHILOH
Idon’t know how it happened, but I’m pretty sure I’ve just been broken up with. A little bit shocked by the rapid turn of events, it takes me a second to get my brain rebooted. I can still feel the press of Roy’s mouth to mine—his hand on my face—burning against my skin. We never kiss or even really touch in public. Hell, we rarely spend time together in public. I turn my head, watching as Roy slides past Ewan and strolls casually toward the door.
I think you and I were about done anyway, he’d said, which is so close to the way my own thoughts have been turning recently that it feels like he stole them right from my head. I look around the bar, noting Ryan’s eyes on us, as well as a table of locals off to the side. Burning with the shame of a public confrontation, I allow the anger to bubble to the surface. Without looking athim, I push past Ewan and follow Roy.
“Shi—” Ewan’s fingers touch my sleeve. I yank my arm away.
“Don’t,” I warn him. “Just…don’t.”
Turning my back to him, I follow Roy through the front door, takeout I’m no longer hungry for still clutched in my hands.
“Roy,” I call, not wanting him to get into his car and drive off. He glances over his shoulder at me, turning so he’s facing me as he continues to walk backward.
“Not the right one?” he asks, as though the reason I’m following him is that he gave me the wrong bag.
“No, can you just…” Reaching forward, I snag his arm and pull him to a stop. He quirks an eyebrow at me, smirking and looking for all the world as though he’s having a grand time this evening. Not for the first time, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with him.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
