Page 56 of These Wicked Hearts

“Don’t worry. This one’s a virgin.” She sets the piña colada in front of me. “You say no alcohol, then that’s what you’ll be getting from here on out.” She pats my hair. “Gage. Did you have a good time tonight? I can see nothing’s still going on, huh?” She beams.

“Can I have a soda please?” He glares at her, and she smirks, nodding.

“What?” I look at him. “Why aren’t you drinking?”

“I’m not going to drink if you’re trying to stay sober,” he says simply then looks up at Vanessa. “I had an okay time, and I’m still enjoying all the nothing going on right now.”

I look between them. “What are you both talking about?”

“Oh, nothing.” She blinks then turns her attention to her friend. “You better be at my house early tomorrow to see the kids. They’re dying to see Uncle Andre and Oli,” Vanessa says.

“Wouldn’t miss it. Oli needs his nails painted anyway.”

“Tell Sasha I’d like purple this time. The pink clashed with my jersey.”

“Will do.” She leaves us to grab Gage’s drink.

Oli bumps Andre when he takes a large sip of his own. “Don’t get too drunk. We have to get up early, then we have a flight out in the afternoon.”

“Yes Daddy.” Andre grins, biting the straw and pumping his brows at his husband.

“Ignore my friends.”

“You’re all six and a half feet tall. I think that would be impossible.”

“So, Gage, what do you do?”

His eyes flick to mine. “He’s an artist,” I say for him.

“Wow, an artist living in an apartment like that?”

“Oli—”

He shrugs. “Must be good is all.”

“You have no idea.” Gage smiles tightly, drumming his fingers on the table. “How long have you been friends?”

“Since Atlas joined my team a few years ago. I’ve known this asshole for a decade now.”

“He hated me.” Andre nods, sucking his straw. “Long story.”

“What happened?” Gage asks.

Andre sighs. “Well, the short version is that my man is terrible at communicating.” He grins as Oli glares at him.

“I was like eighteen and dealing with my terminally ill mother! I thought my best friend betrayed me. Fuck off.”

“And now we’re in love.” Andre looks at Gage. “Classic love story.”

“You’re a dick,” Oli mutters, taking a drink. A soft blush hits his cheeks as Andre leans in to steal a kiss.

“How old are you?” Gage asks me.

“Why?”

“I just realized I have no idea.”

“Isn’t that a personal question?”