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“What?” Max asks, tossing his arms in the air. “The girl’s a heartbreaker, leaving that poor lovesick boy behind to come here and help me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to propose.”
“Me going on about him?” I laugh. “I can’t have a conversation with you without you bringing him up!” I narrow my eyes at my brother. “Maybe he should propose to you.”
I grab Emma’s hand and drag her back to my room, not letting any of the guys ask any more questions about my relationship status. Let Drew stew for a little bit. He deserves it. Let him think I have a boy in the States who wants to be my husband. He doesn’t need to know we’re broken up, and Max can’t tell him since I haven’t told Max. I grin at my friend. Perfect, Emma, fucking perfect.
“Did I do okay?” she asks when I kick the door shut.
“I forgot how amazing you really are. I missed you, Emma.” I throw my arms around her again and kiss her on the cheek. She squirms out of my hold and rolls her eyes.
“Shut up with this shit. We don’t do warm and fuzzy.” She grins at me. “And for the love of God, it’s Em. Or Emmerson. Emma makes me feel like I’m in trouble with my mother.” She holds up the bottle, a cheeky look in her eyes. “Now, crack this wine open so we can get pissed, and you can clue me in on the music for this strip show.”
Nodding, I pull a corkscrew from my suitcase and Emma raises her brow. “What? I never leave home without it. You never know when you’ll need it and won’t have it.”
Shaking her head, she pulls out the cork. We forgo the glasses and drink straight from the bottle. I swish it around in my mouth, savoring the taste before I swallow. She had to have taken this from her mum’s wine cellar; it’s far too expensive just to be something she picked up on her way over. And it’s chilled.
For an hour, we sit and catch up on everything I’ve missed in her life and all the things I didn’t tell her about me. It’s refreshing. As much as I missed Jacey, reconnecting with Emma brings a whole new meaning to friendship. With the exception of the guys in the other room, there won’t ever be two people closer than Emma and me—exact opposites, but we sync so well. It’s a perfect day, no matter how hurt my heart is. One hour alone with Emma has helped me forget about Drew. At least for now.
I feel loads better after clearing the air with Em, and it’s given me the confidence boost I needed to go out there and do what needs to be done for Max. Smiling into the mirror, I run my fingers through my long hair. I take a deep breath and stalk out of my bedroom toward the loud and undisguisable voice of Drew. His eyes glint when he spots me walking toward them, that little smirk on his lips deepening. I return the look with just a little bit more attitude.
Oh, you’re laughing now, but you won’t be when you see the choreography I’ve got planned for you. If he thinks I’m going to let him fluster me, he’s in for a shock.
Only one of us is going to be falling over ourselves, and it’s not going to be me.
Chapter Eleven
Drew
I swear she’s trying to mess with me.
It’s been three days since her impromptu lap dance, and though she says she’s over it, I know she isn’t. Why else would she be acting like this? Scowling, I stand there, watching her grind against Nash, disguising her soft porn moves as choreography for our show.
Every rehearsal has been like this, and I’m hitting my limit on her shit. Anger pulsates through me as my eyes momentarily meet hers before she looks away, the tiny glimpse of a smile on her lips the last straw.
I push up off my seat and storm into the kitchen, trying to ignore the sound of her laughter as it rings in my ears, probably because of something stupid Nash has said. That guy always says stupid shit, and for some reason, the chicks love it.
Standing over the sink, I stare out the window, trying to calm myself. My reaction is just what she wanted, which only fuels my anger even more. God, she gets under my skin. Why the fuck is she acting like a child? Because that’s what she is. Well, almost, anyway. She’s barely fucking legal, yet it takes all my control not to throw her against the wall and slam my tongue down her throat. This should be proving to me how right I was to stop things before they progressed any further, but that isn’t making me feel any better.
“You okay, man?”
My hands clench around the edge of the counter at the sound of Max’s voice.
“You’re the one who looks like shit,” I reply, my mood softening. He laughs and eases himself onto a chair, coughing loudly into his closed hand. “That shit in there getting to you, too?”
“You mean Aubs?” He shakes his head, a rueful smile on his cracked, pale lips. “She’s just doing it to get a rise.”
“Great choice of words,” I say, smiling in spite of myself. “That kind of behaviour is going to get her in trouble someday.”
“You think I don’t tell her that?” he laughs. “You know my sister. Can’t tell her to do anything. I used to think it was cute how independent she is. Now it’s just a damn nuisance.”
“You’re not worried about him?” I jerk my finger in the direction of the living room, a scowl on my face.
“Who, Nash?” He laughs. “I trust you guys with my life. I know none of you would do that to me. Not even you.”
Shit, way to make me feel even worse. I know he’s joking, but it’s like he knows something has gone down. Or maybe that’s just my conscience. For a brief second, I consider telling him we kissed. Bad idea. He has enough on his plate without worrying about me coming on to his sister.
“I gotta get out of here for a while,” I mutter. I leave the kitchen, ignoring Max’s puzzled look, and stalk back through the living room to the front door. I don’t even glance in her direction.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be learning this, too,” Aubrey calls out.
