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I nod, knowing he’s right, and slowly accept my fate. It’s agony. But nothing compared to what Lo’s going through. “Thanks, P—” A loud, high-pitched scream cuts me off, and I swing around on my stool. “Pops, I have to go.” I hang up and run out of the bar, up the stairs toward the sound, my adrenalin pumping. “Lo?” I shout, rounding the corner at the top and staggering to an abrupt stop. I find Lo backed up against a wall, her palm resting on her heaving chest. And Todd on the opposite wall, eyes wide and . . . naked. I look down and see a towel puddled at his feet.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, reaching down and fumbling with the material to cover himself.
“You startled me.” Lo looks toward me, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Wet tresses fan her shoulders, her face fresh and clean. She’s changed into shorts and an oversized sweater. “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
“Neither did I.” I flick a scowl to Todd.
“I was in the shower,” he grumbles, offering Lo his hand. “You must be Lo. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Todd.”
“Oh, Todd?” She looks at me, and I nod as she accepts Todd’s hand and they have an awkward exchange, Todd holding his towel up with one hand.
“Oh, Todd?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at Lo questioningly. “What’s he told you about me?”
She shrugs awkwardly. “Not much.”
“I’m sure.” Todd gives me a filthy look and goes back to his room. “I have a date.”
“Surprise, surprise,” I mutter, making Lo chuckle.
“With your sister,” he adds.
“What?” I shoot him a shocked look, catching him grinning. “Fuck off.”
He chuckles and shuts the door behind him, and I divert my attention back to Lo. “Okay?”
She nods, puffing her cheeks out as she approaches me. “I’d love that drink now, if you don’t mind.” Reaching up on her tippy-toes, she sniffs. “Though you’ve beaten me to the hard stuff, it seems.”
Hard stuff? No alcohol is hard enough for me at the moment. I smile and lead the way down to the bar. “What would you like?”
“Hard stuff.” She wanders around the bar, reacquainting herself with the space as I pour us both a drink. “Should I be worried that Todd’s going to come and eject me from the premises?”
I smile as I gather the glasses and join her on the sofa. “I’ve issued you with a VIP pass for this evening.”
“I’m honored.” Lo smiles weakly and takes the Scotch, circling the tumbler with both palms as I get comfy on the other end of the couch. “Could you sit any farther away?”
I look down at the leather, frowning, trying not to look as self-conscious as I’m feeling. I need to do the right thing, I tell myself. When I hear Boris and Steve both yapping relentlessly, I’m thankful. “Oh, I better let them in.” I’m up fast, hurrying to the kitchen. The pair rush past me, and when I make it back to the bar, I find they’ve both dived on the couch. In the middle. I’m grateful. They serve as a barrier between Lo and me, stopping me from getting too close, therefore, lessening the chances of folding under the pressure of not gathering her into my arms. It’ll only make me want her more, and I seriously don’t need to be doing anything that’s going to make this any harder for either of us.
“Luke?” Lo’s soft calling of my name pulls me from my mental quarrel.
I look up at her, and her lovely face is riddled with questions. I smile, my attempt to convince her I’m here in mind as well as body. With no words coming to me, I lower to the couch and lift my Scotch, toasting the air before swigging the entire contents. I wince, not just because it burns its way down to my stomach, but because I just made a silent fucking toast. We’re hardly celebrating. What the fuck am I doing?
Lo’s face hasn’t lost her inquisitiveness by the time I’ve swallowed and gasped. If anything, her probing look is more probing.
“Are you okay?” She slowly lifts her glass to her lips as she watches me fiddle with Steve’s ear.
“All good.”
“You sure?”
I nod far too enthusiastically. “Want to watch TV? A film or something?” I’m nervous, mentally figuring out how I’m going to say what I need to say.
“Sure,” Lo replies quietly. “After you’ve told me why you’re behaving all funny.”
I look up through my lashes, and Lo tilts her head in question.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asks.
“God, no. No, I don’t want you to leave.” I place my empty on the table before me, thinking it’s perhaps wise that I don’t have any more alcohol. “Lo,” I sigh, wedging my elbows into my knees and pushing my fingertips into my temples, willing the ensuing headache to clear off. “I feel so helpless.”
