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I grunt and nod in the appropriate places, but my eyes never leave Locky. He's engrossed in a conversation with Haze, Lawson, and Chester. Haze is speaking, making all sorts of weird—suggestive?—gestures with his hands, which is accompanied by wide eyes and mouth-covered chuckles from Lawson, Chester, and Locky most of all. It's good to see him having some fun after what went down earlier, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what the hell Haze is talking about. What is it that Haze does for a living again?
Locky eventually turns my way. I narrow my eyes and tip my head toward the bar, silently communicating,We need a word.
I excuse myself from the table. A few moments later, Locky pulls up next to me.
"Everything okay?"
He smiles, but it’s a sad smile. "Just fucking dandy. But it's nice being here with these fellas. They always cheer me up."
"They're a good bunch," I agree. "Have you told them?"
"No. Have you?"
"Said I wouldn't, so I haven't."
"Good. Thank you. I… I need some time to figure out my next steps."
"'Course."
"Can't believe that fucker changed the locks. I thought that sort of shit only happened in the movies. Who does that in real life?"
My skin prickles with heat at the way Locky's being mistreated. I get it—divorces are ugly by their very nature. But does this Bailey fucktard have to go ahead and make it even worse?
"Any idea why he did that? Apart from being a lying, cheating motherfucker?" I dip my head and wince. "Sorry. Shouldn't have said that."
"Don't apologize. You're right on the money about Bailey, you just left out the part where I'm a fucking idiot."
"What do you mean?"
Locky sighs and his big shoulders deflate. "I let him talk me into putting the house in his name. Something about how it would be better for my green card if he owned more assets."
"That sounds like bullshit."
"It is." Locky shakes his head. "Hence me being an idiot for believing it."
I close the space between us and latch onto his arm. "You arenotan idiot. You trusted someone you loved. If you ask me, that makes you brave and him the idiot for betraying your trust."
Locky's eyes fall to where I'm holding him then drift up to me. Can't say I've ever paid much attention to guys' faces before, but his is nice. More than nice, actually, he's an extremely attractive dude.
He's got brown hair that's short at the sides but a little longer on top and light blue eyes that usually have a shimmer to them—when he's not down like he is now. And his lips. They're full, soft-looking lips.
But the best thing about them?
They're usually just ever so slightly tipped up. Because Locky's the sort of person who's almost always on the verge of smiling. That's just the kind of laid-back, friendly, happy guy he is. When he's not dealing with a douchebag ex that changed the locks on him, that is.
"You're right," he says, tapping his hands on the bar, like he's trying to muster up some enthusiasm. "I know you're right. And tonight is meant to be a party. A celebration of my freedom. Better to find out who Bailey is now rather than spend the next forty years together and meet his fifteen secret families at his funeral."
"Exactly."
He smiles, and.Fuck. Me.
It's one of those genuine smiles that lights up his whole face. They’re the reason I normally force myself to keep some space between us and observe him from a safe distance. Because standing in such close proximity to Locky when he's looking at me like that, smiling at me like that… Well, it's taking every fucking reserve of willpower I have to not fist his shirt, pull him into me, and kiss the ever-loving fuck out of him.
What would the guys think of that? Meh, they'd probably love it.
But instead of putting on a show for the vet gang, as much as my body desperately wants to, I simply grin back at Locky. While still holding on to his arm. That's probably weird. I should probably let go of it, but nope, I don't wanna.
"Oh, shit. My suitcases are in your car," he suddenly remembers.
