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"You're not?"
The gang opted to bypass our regular after-work-drinks bar and dragged me out to a nightclub. Pulsing music. Laser lights. Stripper poles. The works.
"Not really my cup of tea," I say.
This whole operation to get me laid isn't my cup of tea, but like always, I've gone along with it. Chronic people pleasing syndrome is real.
The thing that makes it hard for me to say no to them is that I genuinely do appreciate their concern. They want what's best for me, and they're right, getting laid is good for the soul, as the person standing next to me—AKA: the man responsible for the best sex of my life—has made me realize.
But the gang doesn't know about Roman and me hooking up, and I'd like to keep it that way for a little while longer. At least until I get a better handle on exactly what is going on between us, because right now, I have no freaking idea.
He's been in a funny mood all day. I told him he didn't have to come, thinking he might've felt pressure from Bishop, who he's been texting with all afternoon. He grumbled something about nothing being able to stop him from coming, but he looks even less happy to be here than I am.
He was tense on the drive over, keeping chitchat to a minimum, and looking like he wanted to murder someone.
And since we've arrived, he's been glued to my side. He even waited outside the restroom while I did a number one.
Maybe it should concern me that he's taken it upon himself to be my personal bodyguard, but for some reason, I don't actually mind it.
"What would you rather do?" Roman asks.
"Go home, eat pizza, and watchFriendsreruns."
"So let's do that."
"Really? I'd feel bad for leaving since I am the reason everyone came out tonight."
"We've been here for a few hours so I'm sure they won't mind. Besides, Gus is killing it on the dance floor. Noah and Haze are probably in some corner booth making out like horny teenagers. Same goes for Bishop and Fulton. Monty and Jeremy have already left. And yeah, that covers everyone since the others couldn't make it."
"You're forgetting Tyler," I point out just as I hear his voice behind us.
"There you guys are!"
We spin around to see Tyler and some other guy trailing behind him.
"Ta da," he proclaims, gesturing at the guy he's brought over the way a hostess on a game show points out a prize. "This is James. He's single. Looking for no-strings fun. Is a fur daddy to a gorgeous German Shepherd—pics available upon request—and he loves chilling out, watching movies, and taking long walks on the beach."
James turns to Tyler. "I don't actually like the beach. Hate getting sand everywhere."
"Don't worry about it." Tyler waves him off. "Locky's not going to check, but it makes you sound way more doable."
James nods. "Okay. That makes sense."
Can the guys see that we're standing here, hearing everything they're saying?
I glance over at Roman, who looks less than impressed. His eyes meet mine, and he sends me a look that says,This doesnotmake sense.
I arch an eyebrow in complete agreement.
"Look, Tyler, James." I smile at both of them. "Roman and I were actually about to leave."
"You two together?" James points between us then turns to Tyler. "I thought you said he was single."
"He is sing—"
I don't know why Tyler cuts himself off. What, just because Roman's pulled me into him, wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and might be death staring James like a wolf protecting his pack.
Okay. So maybe we are giving off slightwe're togethervibes.
