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“What the fuck was that?”
I shrug. Only Harlow and I remain in the meeting room, as she dismissed the others after voting on a plan for Nicholi. Nico tried to stay, but Spooks dragged him out the door. I absently rub my neck, my skin still on fire where he touched.
“Bullshit,” Harlow barks. “If I’m not mistaken, you liked his hands on you.”
I lift my head and lock eyes with her. I could lie, but she’d know. She always knows. Lowering my arm to the table, I rest my head on my forearm.
“What am I gonna do, Har?”
“Straddle him like he’s a limited-edition Harley and ride him into the sunset.”
“I’m being serious.” My words are muffled by my arm, but I don’t bother moving.
“So am I.”
I release a groan. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“How about, ‘yes, Prez, I’ll get right on it… er, I mean him… I’ll get right on him’?” There’s a teasing lilt to her words, but she’s not joking. When I remain silent, she continues. “Okay, fine. You want my honest opinion?”
I lift my head. “Yes!”
“It’s the same as it was yesterday. If you like him, go for it.”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Is it?”
“He’s my nightmare’s twin. Of course, it is.”
“Pep, the man wrapped his hand around your throat, and I swear you smiled.”
“I didn’t smile,” I argue. And I didn’t. Not on the outside anyway.
“Your panty hamster sure did. That bitch lit up like a firework finale.”
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
“You’re missing the point entirely. I’m already getting fucked. Nico is who I’m suggesting you—”
“Ya know, regular sex has turned you into a hussy,” I accuse as I get up. “It’s annoying.”
“Yet you’re still here, with me, hoping I say whatever it is that you want to hear.”
“Isn’t that what best friends are for?”
“Nope. Best friends are there to tell you like it is without sugarcoating anything.”
“Well, you’ve got that shit down to an art form.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” I mumble as I walk to the door.
Harlow falls into step beside me when I’m halfway down the hall and throws her arm around my shoulder. I try to turn toward the stairs when we reach the main room, but she steers me toward the bar instead.
“I need to grab something out of my room.”
“No, you don’t. You’re trying to flee and hide. I’m not stupid.”
