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“For you, dumbass. That’s all I’m allowed to say,” he adds when I start to press him for more.
I turn to Stone, who is distracted by whatever he’s looking at on his phone.
He’s smiling again.
This time, with teeth.
My curiosity about the evening is forgotten. I give him a suspicious once-over. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see it. But why the fuck are you smiling so much?”
He flushes, and his eyes get an almost dreamy look, one I’ve never seen.
“I think… I’m falling in love.” He sounds like he can’t believe it himself.
“Wow.” I can’t hide my surprise.
He smiles wryly. “I know. It’s a little complicated, though.”
“How so?”
“She’s married. Don’t say a fucking word. Not to anyone,” he whispers.
Then, he claps me on the shoulder and follows Beau out the door. I put my shoes on, grab my wallet and hurry after them.
The elevator doors open on our floor, just as I’m catching up with them.
“Good timing,” Beau mutters, as we step onto the crowded car.
Conversation is impossible, but I catch Stone's eye and give him a look that he knows means I’m not done with him.
He smirks and shrugs.
I smirk back and plan my attack as we descend.
When we step off the elevator, I pounce.
“I forgot my phone upstairs,” I lie.
“Aww, shit. Hayes. If you’re late, Confidence will fucking kill me,” Beau whines.
“Then you go get it. And Stone can escort me to whatever this is.”
“Good idea. I’ll be five minutes behind you,” he says, and turns back for the elevators.
“That’s not a little complicated.” I fall into step beside a speed-walking Stone.
He scoffs. “It is. She won’t be married for much longer. Now that I know for certain she could be mine; I’m just going to wait for everything to align and make my move.”
“I thought you had a girl in Houston?”
“That was nothing. This woman, she feels like my endgame.”
“Not if she’s already somebody else’s. You’re whipped. You’ll get over it.” I assure him.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance at him and find his attention is on something on the other side of the lobby.
I follow his gaze and glimpse someone… who shouldn’t be here.
“Is that… Regan Landel?” It’s a rhetorical question.
