He nods. “Too many symbols.”
Pulling away from her fiancé, Delilah grabs a beer of her own, leaving two bottles, and carves out a space for herselfon the floor, legs crossed. Until my other sofa is delivered, there really is no other place for her to sit.
“So, what is it I know?” she asks.
Hudson answers her before I can. “About his and Becker’s fake dating pact.”
“Oh!” Delilah nods, brows high on her forehead. “Yeah. I’ve known about that for a good month or so.”
“Me too,” Giselle agrees, nodding her thanks to Grey when he hands her one of the two remaining beer bottles before folding himself into a spot on the floor beside Delilah.
I pop my shoulders, stretching my legs out in front of me and resigning to the fact that everybody in this room knows what goes on in my private life. “Glad everybody knows my deepest darkest secrets, then.”
“It’s the Millen way,” Grey responds while Delilah squawks.
“Hey! It’s only fair seeing as how everybody knows about the time I vomited all over myself in class!”
Hudson lets out a belly laugh, head falling back against the edge of the sofa. “God, that story never gets old.”
“Sure, it doesn’t, Mr I Once Cried On A Rollercoaster.”
“It was the wind making my eyes water!” Hudson argues.
Giselle grins before she reaches over to pat my knee, ignoring the squabbling pair. “How’s it going between you and Calla?”
“It’s good.” I take a sip of my beer for liquid courage. “Her boss is a right tool—”
“He’s her boss? I thought he was just a co-worker?”
“Nah, he’s been promoted to boss. Just a couple of weeks ago, actually. Anyway, like I said, he’s a right prick, so I can see why Calla asked me to help drive him away.”
“And is it working?”
“I think so. I haven’t heard anymore horror storiesrecently of him making her uncomfortable or giving her extra work to do so she has to stay later in the office.”
The girls nod slowly before Gee voices the question, I’m pretty sure is on every member of my family’s lips, “So, how much longer is it going to last?”
“Honestly?” I scrub at my jaw, hiding my mouth. “I have no clue.”
“Do you—”
“I like the girl, I really do,” I interrupt Delilah. “I just…”
“Just what?”
“Nothing.” I lean forward, forearms resting on my upper thighs and shake my head. The words stick in my throat. “It doesn’t matter.”
A chorus of voices disagree.
“Blake.”
“Come on, man.”
Hudson gives my upper back a pat. “Tell us.”
I swallow thickly, forcing the words out of my mouth that I’ve been sitting on for a while. Months, actually. Since the moment Calla knocked on my apartment door to check up on me.
“I like her. Ireallylike her. It’s scary how much.”
