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“Why?”
“They’re getting married.” As soon as the words are out, my cheeks heat with a deep pink, terrified they could be misconstrued. “I mean, she needs to spend his money on the wedding, not that she has open access to his credit card because they’re engaged,” I add probably too hastily.
Dylan rubs his lips with his fingertips and I desperately try to gauge his reaction. His mouth tugs at the corner. “So is that what I have to do so you’ll spend my money?”
My heart stutters at his hint about marriage. No. Please don’t go there, not to something we’ve never discussed and not in front of Honey. I shake my head and slide a look to Liam and Honey.
Dylan’s teasing grin widens before he spots someone behind me and nods. “Hey, Bryn.”
Bryn places an arm across Dylan’s shoulders. “How you feeling today?”
Dylan doesn’t answer, glancing at me instead. “If you’re not sightseeing, are you hanging around?”
“Might sit here and read.” I indicate the sofas near where we’re standing and the magazines on the low glass table between them.
“Jem here yet?” asks Bryn.
“I’m sure he’s not far. I’ll text him,” Dylan replies.
When Dylan kisses me and walks away, my heart bangs in my chest. We hit a subject I didn’t want to talk about yet. The worst part is I couldn’t fathom what he thought.
I turn from where Dylan walked into the nearby room and come face to face with Jem. For a moment, I think he’s about to walk straight by, but in the narrow hallway and the close proximity, if either of us did that, we’d be snubbing each other.
Jem regards me silently for a moment. His brown eyes are sober and he smells of hotel soap, not the lingering smell of alcohol.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
The day I first met this man, he terrified me and I hated him. Now all I feel is sympathy and gratitude. The similarities between Dylan and him have intensified in my mind recently, and despite the fact he still behaves like an arrogant dickhead around most women, he’s dropped the facade around me.
He moves as if to pass and I touch his arm. “Thanks.”
Jem pulls his arm away but the surprise in his face registers. “For what?”
“Helping Dylan the other night.”
“Yeah. Well, just knew something wasn’t right.” He shifts uncomfortably, looking to the door behind.
“I hope being able to talk to each other again helps you both,” I say. “Dylan cares a lot about you.”
Jem runs his tongue along his teeth. “Sure. Catch you later.”
Talking to me is evidently something he’s not entirely comfortable with.
I curl up outside the room in a soft armchair and half-wish I’d left with Honey. Well, for a fleeting moment, then my sanity returns.
“Where’s Dylan?”
I look up, pulled out of my book world by Steve’s voice. I prepare for conflict.
“He’s with the band,” I tell him.
“And they are where?”
I point my book to the closed door. “In there.”
Steve’s face is impassive. “Uh huh. Fortunate then, because I wanted to talk to them all. They hiding from me?”
“None of my business.”
