“Move your ass, bro! We got shit to do!”
Wrapping a towel around my hips, I pushed into the bedroom in time to witness the scowl on the angel’s face as she growled, “Is the hollering really necessary?”
Calix smirked. “Still nursing that hangover, Tater-tots?”
She lifted her middle finger at him and turned to me. “Do you have any other clothes? I’d rather not take you into the studio in just a towel.”
I blinked at her dumbly, unsure what to make of her. She clearly wasn’t scared of Calix, and he seemed weirdly comfortable with her considering…
“Wait, who are you to us now?” I asked.
“She’s the new Marisa,” Calix said, rifling through the closet in the corner of the room. Grunting, he pulled out a pair of basketball shorts and tossed them at my head.
“And the old Marisa…?”
“Gone.” He lifted his chin at the shorts in my hand.
With a grimace, I slid them on, hoping the previous owner hadn’t had anything transmissible. Calix’s mood was setting me on edge, and I couldn’t work out whether it was my relapse, the house, or our new friend causing it. So as soon as my naughty bits were tucked away, I led us past Frankie’s unconscious, but breathing, body and out to the front of the house. As I slammed the ornate thing behind me, I got the oddest sense I was closing a metaphorical door as much as a physical one.
Ah, the optimism of the hungover. My sobriety was likely to last about as long as the headache I was rocking, but one could dream. And hey, maybe the tour was exactly what I needed to dry out and fly straight.
Or maybe I’d end up dead in a ditch somewhere between here and Kentucky.
Either way…
Sliding into the passenger seat, I pretended not to notice how my brother’s eyes slid to the angel in the backseat who curled up against the door as though ready for a nap.
This could be a good thing. Calix needed someone else in his life.
Someone more reliable.
Someone more permanent.
Because we all knew I wasn’t a great bet.
Chapter
Six
Tatum
“…Sonow I have a week to confirm six months’ worth of venues and accommodation for the guys. Her notes were awful! Ruby, this was a terrible idea. I’m not just going to fuck up this job, I’ll ruin their tour, and then what? They’ll leave me stranded at the side of the road somewhere, and I’ll have to move back in with Ma and help with Dad and end up waiting tables in a dive bar. Although, with the way my luck has been, I’ll get fired from there too and have to sell feet pics to make money. Ruby, my feet aren’t cute enough for foot fetish pics!”
I scrolled back through the files Mr. Whelan had sent over from Marisa. They were a mess.
“Don’t be so dramatic, and please stop talking about your feet. It’ll be fine, I promise. Tell me again about the hardware.”
“I’m not talking to you about Tobias’s dick!” I almost shrieked as a knock echoed through my apartment.
“Shit,” I whispered, hunching over my laptop as though it needed protecting. After the evening I’d already had, it very well might have.
“What’s wrong?” The teasing tone left Ruby’s voice immediately. She may have been relentless when she found something to hassle me about, but fun and games ended the second shit got real.
“Someone’s at my door. Please tell me you took pity on my broke ass and ordered me pizza.”
Ruby cackled.
“No, but I did something better. Answer your damn door and enjoy.”
