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“I’d pick that jaw up before you try to walk or you’re going to trip over it,” Gaige says with humor in his voice.
“It’s nothing,” I tell him.
“I didn’t ask a question, Jude, but after that response, I feel the need to. Why don’t you just sit down and tell us all what’s going on?”
I look back, finding several of the guys watching me.
“It’s nothing,” I say again, dropping back down on to my spot on the sofa. Walking down the hall would end with me shoving Deacon’s office door open and demanding answers I have no right to. Staying here under the scrutiny of my friends is going to suck just as much, but at least this won’t end with losing my job.
“Who is she?” Flynn asks.
“Hayden’s friend.”
“The way you looked at her sends off the vibe that she may be a friend to you as well,” Kit says.
“Not really,” I mumble, reaching for a magazine and glaring at Gaige when he slaps a hand over the top of it.
“You’ve read them all a dozen times since Pam put out the new ones last week.”
“There’s an article I wanted to show you guys on the new Ruger—”
“No one in this room gives a shit about weapons right now, Jude. Spill,” Gaige insists.
“There’s nothing to tell. She’s Hayden’s friend.”
“I don’t think that’s all. Guys?”
“Nope,” Kit snaps.
“I’m not one to gossip—” I roll my eyes at Flynn. “But I have to agree with them. Are you dating her?”
“No.” It’s the honest answer. If they keep asking the right ones, I can end the day with not lying to my friends.
I won’t go into detail that having fun and dating aren’t the same thing. At least they wouldn’t be in Parker’s mind, and plus, whatever you want to call what we had ended more than a week ago. I haven’t seen her since she was here last time, and she never responded to my text.
“But you want to?”
I shrug. “She’s very pretty.”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Gaige says in a tone that means he’s definitely interested, but I also know it’s a ploy to get a reaction out of me.
I don’t give him one, and hopefully he didn’t catch the way my jaw clenched before I was able to get better control of my facial expressions.
“Is she single?” Kit asks.
“How would I know?”
“You’ve been sleeping with her. I’m sure that’s something you would know.”
“If I were sleeping with her, she wouldn’t be single,” I counter.
“That’s not entirely true,” Gaige argues. “Modern women are quick to not put labels on what they do. She could be sleeping with you and others.”
And that’s been part of the rub since I saw her flirting with that man at her job. I have no idea what she got up to when we weren’t together. I still don’t. It’s just one more question I’ll probably never have an answer to.
“But he’s a virgin, right?” Kit says. “You’re still a virgin, aren’t you, Jude?”
My eyes snap up to his. “Why is what I do such a concern for you assholes?”
“Well, that answers that,” Gaige says with a wide grin.
“Answers what? I didn’t answer anything.”
“And if the previous response didn’t make it clear, that does,” Kit quickly adds.
“Leave the guy alone,” Flynn says. “His personal life is his business.”
“I don’t understand why men don’t talk about their sex lives,” Gaige grumbles. “We’re not perverted or anything. I know for a fact; women do it constantly.”
“Men who care for the woman they’re spending time with won’t disrespect her that way,” Flynn says. “I’d never open my mouth about what Remi and I do.”
“Wren doesn’t—”
“Wren is an idiot,” Flynn interrupts Gaige.
“So that means you aren’t just sleeping with her. You care for her?” Kit deduces.
“I said leave him alone,” Flynn hisses, a warning in his tone that just makes the guys more eager to grill me when he’s not around.
“Gaige?”
We look to the front of the room.
“Deacon needs you in his office,” Pam says with a sweet smile before turning back around toward her desk in the front vestibule.
“Well, well, well. Looks like my services are needed,” Gaige says as he stands.
“He’s just trying to rile you up,” Flynn says as the acquisitions expert walks away.
It’s fucking working.
Seeing her again today, the thoughts of her I can’t get out of my head, make me regret what I told her. I thought not being around her, not spending hours inside of her only to watch her walk away would be easier. I was certain that distance was exactly what I needed to get over my need for her, but it’s only gotten worse since I told her to leave my apartment, since I insisted that what we had was over.
Regret has swarmed in my stomach for days, the ache making it impossible to get a good night’s sleep, impossible to think straight, impossible to taste even my favorite foods.
