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At this precise moment, the honest answer would be a resounding “fuck no.” I’d rather send them to opposite sides of the globe if it means never having to see Bee—or anyone, really—touch Wren like that in front of me ever again.
“Beatrice—”
“Whoa, whoa. Don’t you full name me. You want to know what happened between Wren and me last night—if something did in fact even happen? Well, you’ll have to ask her.” She taps my cheek with an open palm and winks viciously. “You snooze, you lose, buddy. Just sayin’.”
Then she’s gone, switching her hips like she’s sex walking.
Furious, I storm down the hall towards Wren’s room. I’m so on edge that I barge in without knocking.
“Ahh!” she shrieks in surprise, twisting around from the window seat and nearly knocking over the seating charts laid out in front of her. “What the hell, Dmitri? You can’t just bust in here whenever?—”
“You better start talking and you better start talking now.”
“I—”
“Right. Fucking. Now.”
The sunflower pajamas she’s wearing look ridiculous. So I have no clue why my dick perks up at the sight of her in them. Sometimes, it seems like just the two of us in an enclosed space is all it takes.
“Oh, now, you want to talk?” She plants her fists on her hips and glares at me.
I pause. I wasn’t expecting quite so much attitude. I also wasn’t expecting how my presence here doesn’t seem to surprise her at all.
“Because,” she continues, “I’ve been living here for over a month now and you haven’t been interested in ‘talking’ before.”
“Don’t be a child.”
“Me?” she hisses incredulously. “I’m the one being a child? Please.”
I take a step forward and shove myself right in her face. She stands her ground and scowls darkly at me. “Don’t fuck with me, Wren.”
“Or what? You’ll put me over your knee again!?” she demands. “Is that it?”
“I just might.”
There’s not an ounce of quit in her today. The green of her eyes is spitting at me like the sparklers on her birthday cake. “You want me to tell you things? To be open with you?” she asks, crossing her hands over her chest, which does not fail to draw my attention to her breasts. “Well, that’s a two-way street.”
“Have you been paying attention at all?” I snarl. “This is strictly a one-way street and it belongs to me.”
“Right. Because everything belongs to you, huh?” she asks. “Me. This baby. Bee.” What is that tone? It’s a little too knowing. Too scathing. “Although, can we really say Bee belongs to you if she’s out there sleeping with women?”
There it is.
Fuck. Me.
My eye twitches, but apart from that, I manage to keep a straight face. If Bee made a move on her last night, I’ll kill her. I swear I will.
“What did she do?” I grit out slowly.
“It’s more a question of who she did.”
“If the answer’s ‘you,’ there’s going to be hell to pay.”
For the first time, I feel like this conversation veers off the track Wren had laid out for it. She freezes, confusion blotting out her anger for a moment. “Wait. Pause. Rewind. Do you think something happened between Bee and me last night?”
“Like you said, Bee can be a flirty drunk.”
“Meaning what?” She snaps back to being pissed off. “That if Bee had tried to get in my pants, I would’ve let her?” Jabbing an angry finger into my chest, she spits, “Apart from the fact that I’m not gay, you and Bee are together! Or at least, I thought you were—and there’s no way in hell I’d have been party to infidelity.”
