Boston nods, leaning forward on the bar with his elbows. The sleeves of his white dress shirt are pushed up his forearms. He places his empty glass on the bar as he waves the bartender over, asking for another for both him and Lemmy without a hint of a smile.
“How are things going?”
“Fine,” I say with a shrug. He thanks the bartender when a fresh whiskey and Coke is placed in front of him, and turns toward me, ignoring the champagne flute. Those green eyesare asking many more questions than he is. “Why? Expected me to shit the bed with this whole thing by now?”
“No,” he says. “Just checking in. The dress looks nice.”
I shoot him a look. I fucking know it does. My god, everyone in this room knows it does. Can they stop saying it to me like it’s something I’m unaware of? I have eyes.
“I have good taste.”
“Right.” He nods, gently scratching his full beard. “How is the shit going with your charges?”
I wince a bit, letting out a small breath. “Lemmy thinks it’s going to result in a big ass fine, paying off his medical bills, and maybe some community service. She’s been working with his lawyer to keep his public comments to a minimum, but we have a few weeks until I’ll know for sure.”
Boston dips his chin. “Could be worse.”
Understatement of the year. “Definitely.”
“You’ve been good lately.”
I glance at him, recognizing that little glimmer of a point in his eyes. “Thanks, Boston.”
“Staying out of trouble is hard for you,” he tells me. “Honestly. During these past few months, you’ve been a different man in that regard, Fork.”
I scan his eyes. “Right.”
“Any reason that might be?” he asks, finally. There it is. There’s his point.
“I preferred it when you were minding your own business,” I grumble, leaning forward on the bar. I run a hand over my face. “This arrangement has an end date. I’ve told you that four hundred times. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I have realistic expectations when it comes to a relationship with literally no fucking intimacy beyond what we do for the cameras. Got it?”
My dick barely exists anymore. This can’t continue forever. Either this arrangement ends, or I become one of those balddudes who wear those cloaks inGame of Thrones.Both options feel like the end of the world. Unfortunately for me, and for my dick, Arden doesn’t want to cross that line. It’s fortunate for all the animals in the shelter, though. I should pretty much just buy that place at this point.
“Jesus, I was just trying to?—”
“Sorry to interrupt, I was coming to get a refill.”
My eyes flutter shut and my heart sinks. I swallow, dragging my eyes from Boston’s shocked face to the beautiful girl in the green dress who slides between us. Her glare is lethal as it locks onto my face, but she forces one of those tight, cold smiles as she places her empty glass on the bar.
I sigh, giving her a pleading look, but she turns her back to me and orders another glass of wine. When I touch the small of her back, she angles herself away to avoid my fingers. I drop my hand and my head at the same time.
The bartender hands her a new glass, and she glances over her shoulder to meet my eyes. She paints this mean little smile on her mouth, side-stepping my touch yet again.
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, narrowing her eyes and glancing around the room. “There aren’t any cameras around.”
She storms back the way she came and I watch her go. She rejoins Penny with her shoulders back and head held high, straight to the table where the rest of Lowesy’s friends sit. She slides into the booth next to EJ and turns her back toward the bar. Toward me. To sit next to him.
I grind my teeth, glancing beside me at the bearded idiot who is staring at the ceiling.
He still doesn’t look at me when he speaks, but he winces a bit. “I had no idea she was there.”
I lean forward, smacking him on the shoulder and squeezing tightly. “Fucking pay attention next time.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
carter
I tugmy tie off my neck, tossing it across the row of sinks. I slam my hands against the edge of the counter, hang my head between my shoulder blades, and take a deep, sobering breath in.
