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He kept diligently slapping stickers on the bottles as he spoke. Which made me get back to work as well. His side of the table had more completed bottles than mine, and that couldn’t stand.
“We all hung out during the summers in the Hamptons.”
“The Hamptons. Really? LikeRevengeHamptons?”
He gave me a raised brow.
“Never mind. Television show, lots of drama.”
“Well, they got the drama right. Rich kids with too much time on their hands. Add in the like-minded adults showing up and showing off and it was quite the scene.”
I couldn’t imagine that kind of wealth. My parents were well above the middle when it came to income, but they weren’t jetsetters with a yacht. That was a whole other level.
“I keep forgetting you’re wealthy.”
“I enjoyed it when I was young and dumb. I enjoyed my fair share of parties until…well, until I didn’t.”
I paused with a sticker hovering over my bottle. “Wait, you weren’t always grumpy?”
“Watch it.”
“What? It’s a fair question.”
“No time to be young and dumb when you’re in the Army, babe.”
“No, I don’t suppose so. Do you come from a military family?”
“God, no. My father is more worried about finding the next party than he is with fighting for his country.”
I heard the derision in his voice and reached across the table to touch his hand. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I might have become just like him if Mags and Reid hadn’t imploded.” A harsh laugh rolled out of his chest.
“And Clay?”
“Yeah. Only Clay and Mags really know what happened that night. We got stories, but I never believed all of it.”
“And you didn’t talk about it?” I leaned forward and took his hands before he could tear off another label. “Look at me.”
He licked his lower lip in an annoyed gesture that shouldn’t have gotten me revved. Too bad it did, anyway. I pushed that aside. Then his eyes locked with mine.
“You guys should talk.”
“It’s in the past. Where it should stay.”
“Obviously not, as you’re trying to dust your molars again.”
“If they’d just had a grown-up discussion, then maybe my sisters would still be around.”
“Who?”
“Can we stop talking about this?”
I blew out a breath and tightened my grip on him. “Maybeyouneed to talk about it.”
“Do I look like I talk about emotional shit?”
“Don’t get all grumpy about it. Maybe if you spit it out, some of the anger will go away.” I narrowed my eyes. “Or are you mad at the wrong person?”
