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I blinked, surprised and vaguely annoyed that my friend and business partner, Emmett, would be so loose-lipped around Drew of all assholes. But I gave no indication of it and I was over it shortly because it was a matter of the past at this point.
And it was true.
I’d been with Keira for specific reasons, and Drew wasn’t among the people I needed to “fake it” for.
I just hated that incredibly satisfied look he got anytime he managed to catch me off guard.
“Hour meet-and-greet plus thirty minutes mingling at the party,” I finally said. “Call it an asshole tax.”
Drew groaned as he considered it.
“Fine,” he said, laughing as he peered past my shoulder while undoing his weight belt. “What’s going on, by the way? How you liking that heat?” he asked. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Watt’s stupid face burning holes in the back of your head,” he said, looking past my shoulder again and shooting a quizzical look at presumably Watt.
My jaw tightened. Perfect.
I’d known there was a good chance of running into Watt when I came here, but it didn’t make me any more thrilled to see him, so I turned my attention to the new emails pinging into my phone as Drew gave an upward nod behind me.
“Watt,” I greeted him once he lumbered into my eye line with his trainer.
“Boss,” he grinned, holding eye contact with me as Drew greeted the trainer.
But he looked away when Drew said something or another, and for a little while, they talked about the All-Star game on Tuesday. Watt’s no-necked trainer asked where the after party was and Drew replied that it would be at The Atrium, a massive venue overlooking the water on the East Side.
Meanwhile, I multitasked, fielding whatever questions were directed at me while responding to a few of my more pertinent emails.
Outwardly, everything seemed perfectly routine.
Of course, I knew it wasn’t because I could see Watt’s repeated glances in my direction, and I knew it was because he was seconds from fucking up my progress and specifically asking about the one thing I was trying to forget.
And I was right, because moments later, he went for it.
“So, boss. Was she any good?”
An instant heat rose to my skin as I finished the last sentence of my email, firing it off before I forced myself to look up at Watt and that dirty grin on his idiot face.
I controlled the need to deck him as I asked, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“What the hell am I—what the hell do you think?” he laughed big. “I’m talking about the sweet little blonde we met the other night. Pretty face. Body like a fuckin’ college cheerleader. You know what I’m talking about, considering you goddamned snapped at me to call dibs on her.”
“Iain?” Drew laughed. “Yeah right,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as he looked over at me. But from the corner of my vision, I saw his smile falter, and his brow lightly furrow as I stood there and said nothing to refute Watt’s story. All I had the patience to do was stare back at him as he kept on grinning at me.
“What? Ain’t no shame. I know you’re used to being the one who lectures us for fucking jailbait, but no one’s gonna judge you for finally getting the urge,” he chuckled, licking his lips. “Especially not when she was as fuckin’ stacked as that cute thing was.”
“Yeah?”
A one-word question from his trainer and I was ready to kill them both, especially since it had Watt launching gleefully into detail, gesturing with both hands over his chest as he described her.
Holland.
Little Holland Maxwell who clearly wasn’t so little anymore.
That much had been made abundantly clear to me last night at the bar. Because not only had the girl filled out—beyond filled out—she had a mouth on her now too. Pouting pink lips and a sharp tongue that should’ve made me proud considering how I’d always implored her to stick up for herself as a kid. But proud didn’t exactly describe what she’d made me feel last night when she went told me off.
When she teased me.
