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Myles narrows her eyes, still pointing the phallic object at him. “Rude, Saint.Rude. I don’t even like dicks in real life. What am I supposed to do with these?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe put them in drinks?”
“I can think of somewhere else to put them,” she huffs through tight lips.
“Why do you call him Saint?” I ask, interrupting their hilarious back and forth with the question that’s been plaguing my mind since the last time she interrupted.
Instead of answering me, she jabs the stir stick in my direction. “Doyouthink this is funny?”
“I mean …” My eyes widen of their own accord and I hold back a barely veiled laugh. “I don’t—”
She drops her arm and her head lolls back. “Christ on a cracker. You do.”
I have to press my fingertips to my lips to stop myself from laughing.
London, on the other hand, has the world’s shittiest grin on his face and he’s two seconds away from breaking out a guffaw.
“Laugh it up, funny boy. Laugh it up. Paybacks are a bitch,” Myles says, but the fire in her rebuttal is starting to lose its edge. With a heavy sigh, she turns to me. “And to answer your question, I call him Saint becauseusually”—she turns to glare at him—“he’s the guy that always comes through. Like aSaint.”
My heart actually full-on squishes. London was always that guy for me, too.
“It also helps that it’s the start of my last name,” he deadpans.
Myles shrugs, her face expressionless now. “That’s fair.”
“It’s also less syllables than London. Or St. James,” I offer.
Myles raises her arm and jabs the stir stick at me again. “See, she gets me. I mean, she’s clearly delusional aboutsome things”—she waves the pink stick in the air like a wand—“but she gets me.”
“Stop delaying the inevitable and get back out there,” London says, shooting her a pointed stare.
Again, she drops her arms and her shoulders slump. “Make it stop.”
“Now,” he presses, his eyes widening as he tips his head toward me.
She swaps the way she’s holding the stir stick in her hand, then slices it through the air with it like it’s a butcher knife.
“Go,”he grounds out.
Without another word, Myles spins on her heels and exits London’s office. When she’s gone, I slowly twist around to face him, my left eyebrow arching.
He grins triumphantly. “What?”
“So,that’swhat those stir sticks were for?”
He finally lets himself laugh as he leans back in his chair. “I love Myles, but I swore to myself the next time she forgot to order stir sticks, I was gonna make a point of it.”
His laugh is infectious and after a few seconds, I find myself joining in. “She looked genuinely put out by those.”
“Oh, trust, there is no putting out where Myles is concerned,” London fires back. He pulls up short as if he realized what he was saying a second too late.
My cheeks heat and I blink rapidly. I hadn’t given a single thought to whether or not she and London were a thing—but maybe I should have.
“Are you two—” I begin, pointing between him and the empty doorway.
His dark blue eyes darken further. “No. Not even a little bit.”
I glance down at my hands now resting in my lap. “Oh. I thought I just—”
