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“You don’t,” I said finally. “See ya later.”
I headed up the stairs to take a shower, ignoring the feeling of her eyes on me until I’d rounded the corner into the hallway. It wasn’t like it was hard to find me if she came looking. Charlie knew I was into her—I wasn’t going to fucking chase her.
Unfortunately, my stance backfired in a big way and it wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I saw her for more than a few minutes.
“Are we crashing at the club?” Kara asked, moving around me in the kitchen as I refilled my water bottle.
“Nah,” Draco said from across the room. “Someone will be sober enough to drive us or we’ll just call for a pickup. You comin’ Lover Boy?”
“I’ll be there,” I said, turning to lean my hips against the sink. “Doubt I’ll be drinkin’ much. I can give you guys a ride back.”
“Excellent,” Kara said, doing a little dance.
“This one didn’t use to party,” Draco said with a laugh. “Now she’s a lush.”
“I am not,” Kara replied, throwing a kitchen towel at him. “But we haven’t all hung out together in a while and I’m excited.”
“I never asked you how Charlie’s graduation went,” I said, curious. I had barely seen any of my housemates lately. Kara and Draco had been working on finals but they finally seemed to be coming up for air.
“It went great,” Kara said, smiling. “You should’ve heard everyone cheering, I think we almost embarrassed her.”
“Not possible,” Draco argued, shaking his head. “You, on the other hand, are going to be mortified at graduation.”
“I’ll be so glad to be done, I won’t even care,” Kara replied with a laugh.
“How’s that goin’?” I asked Draco. He’d discussed college with me when we were on the inside, but it hadn’t been much but wishful thinking back then. I wondered how it measured up for real.
“Hard,” Draco replied. “Good though. Nice workin’ toward somethin,’ you know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” I said with a laugh. “I work toward other people havin’ a nice new house.”
Draco grinned. “You’re a giver.”
“Charlie said her parents’ house is almost finished,” Kara said. “And that it looks awesome.”
“It’s gonna be a nice place,” I agreed. “Her mom’s got an eye for how shit should be, and she’s up our asses so much that it’s all gonna be exactly how she wants it.”
“Sounds like Farrah,” Kara replied. “Okay, I’m going to go finish getting ready. Leave in fifteen?”
“I just gotta hop in the shower,” I replied. “Shouldn’t take longer than that.”
We actually left the house closer to thirty minutes later—but that wasn’t my fault. Kara had been the one who held us up. By the smug look on Draco’s face, I had a feeling he’d sidetracked her for a while.
I’d been to the Aces clubhouse a handful of times for barbeques and parties. It was a long building with garage bays taking up most of the space on the left side and a smaller section on the right that had a common area with a bar and a hallway full of bedrooms. I hadn’t actually been in any of the bedrooms, but I’d been in the hallway to use the bathroom and knew where they were.
The guys always made me feel welcome, but I couldn’t really tell if it was because they liked me or because I’d watched Draco’s back while we were in prison. Hopefully it was a little of both, but it was hard to tell. To say that they were a group that kept to themselves would be an understatement. The women contradicted that, though. They’d welcomed me in with open arms and tried to mother me. It was an odd experience.
“Good to see ya, Boyo,” a raspy old voice greeted me from the bench of a picnic table.
“You too, Poet,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand.
“Bah,” he grumbled, pulling me toward him with surprising strength so he could kiss my temple, his other hand cupping the side of my head.
I felt my throat tighten and I cleared it as I rose back up. The man was older than the earth, and looked it, but his presence seemed to fill the entire yard we were standing in.
“How you been?” I asked, taking a seat beside him.
“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “Woke up this mornin.’ I consider that a good sign.”
“Barely,” his wife Amy said, making her way toward us. “I had to shake you for a good three minutes.”
“Ignore her,” he told me, lowering his voice. “Her mind’s not what it used to be.”
“Patrick,” Amy scolded, smacking his arm as she set a plate of food on the table. “If anyone’s losing their mind, it’s you.”
Poet looked up at her innocently.
“See if I get you seconds, you old goat,” she said with a laugh, patting his shoulder. “It’s nice to see you Bishop.”
