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Eden glances around the restaurant then back to us. “You’re leaving already?”
At the same time, I nod. “Yes, please.”
Tom ignores his friend and cocks a brow at me. “Was it that bad?”
“No, not at all.”
“Well, apart from me attempting and failing to give her the third degree.” Eden places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Please forgive me, and I’m going to leave you both.”
She gives us both a quick hug and vanishes but not before once more whispering “sorry” in my ear.
Tom’s gaze slides from the back of his retreating friend to me. “What was that all about?”
Ignoring him, I square my shoulders and narrow my gaze. “So, I hear you called me difficult.”
He pales and sputters. I mean it in jest—well, sort of—but it still hurts a little to think Tom used that word in describing me, and to his friends of all people.
28
TOM
“You kind of live like a frat boy.” Leighton wrinkles her nose and tentatively picks up one of August’s discarded gym T-shirts. It reeks of body odor.
“Ugh, gimme that.” I shove the offending garment behind a sofa cushion, inwardly cursing my best friend.
She hesitantly continues to prance around the living room, inspecting every dust-covered surface of the house I rent with August. Why did I think bringing her back to my place was a good idea?
I recall how freaked out she was about the three-star—okay, more like two-star—hotel we stayed at that one night in Utah. Even when I dashed in to shower and change for tonight’s party, I bristled at the less than clean house. Why didn’t I remember that when I suggested coming back here?
While I’m not great at keeping this place tidy, Gus is way worse. Especially since he works more than anything else. He hardly has time to eat and sleep let alone clean up after himself.
“Let’s go up to my room.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the staircase.
“Is your room like this?” Her hands swim around the area. “There’s no doubt bachelors live here, but it’s like you’re still in college. The furniture looks like you picked it up from a garage sale or a dumpster. And you should really invest in a cleaning service once a week.”
Chuckling, I steer her toward the stairs. “Yes, it’s a dump. Sorry. Gus isn’t great at keeping house and I’m not much better.”
She grips the railing and sinks into me, at her back, as we ascend the stairs. “I’m not so sure I can stay here.” She peers over her shoulder at me. “After all, I am difficult.”
Groaning, I roll my eyes, regretting that I ever described her as difficult. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
When Leighton had put me on the spot in the restaurant, it didn’t take long to figure out that Eden had said something to her. And even at that, I hadn’t called Leighton difficult to Eden; I’d said it to Gus. But those two are like a couple of gossiping biddies. While I fumbled for a way out of it and apologized profusely, her smile grew. She was enjoying my discomfort.
“Uh-uh. I don’t think I will ever let you forget it.” She kisses the tip of my nose and stops on the top step.
At my closed bedroom door she makes a terrified expression, resembling Edvard Munch’sThe Scream.
“Very funny.” My hand covers her eyes and I open the door.
I nudge her into my tidy bedroom and drop my hand. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, wow. I half expected an unmade futon, milk crates for tables, and clothes everywhere.”
“All right, you’ve had your fun.” I drop down on my made king-sized bed and pat the dark brown duvet cover. “Come here.”
“I’m not so sure I can stay here. I don’t want to catch some communicable disease with how filthy—” Her words catch in her throat as I yank her down beside me.
She giggles and I pounce, hovering above her. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Is that so?” She arches a brow but settles into the mattress. “And what makes you think I won’t get up and leave right now?”
