“I honestly couldn’t tell the difference between an old Ford and an old Mustang,” Kira laughed. “But he absolutely loved it. He was like a little boy in a toy shop...” She trailed off before looking at me with a sheepish grimace.
“What?”
“I also kind of let slip that you’d ridden in a vintage Cadillac.”
I groaned. “Kira.”
She raised her hands defensively but still smiled. “I promise I didn’t say anything about Romeo, or your job at The Den. It just kind of came out.”
“And he didn’t ask who the Cadillac belonged to?”
“I told him it was a friend of your Dad,” she shrugged. “Out of curiosity, what’s the worst that could happen if Aiden did know?”
The bragging that if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have that job; the questions he would ask about his favorite fighters; the snide remarks of “Oh, so you aren’t a complete prude”, just to name a few.
“I don’t know,” I said instead. “I just want to keep it on the down low.”
Kira nodded in understanding before her face split into a slowly spreading grin. “Aiden would be over the moon if he did get an autograph though.”
“From me? I’m flattered,” I mocked.
She laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“Couldn’t he get one himself? He’s the one who attends the fights.”
“It’s always too crowded when he tries to get one.” She kicked a stone as a subtle pout appeared on her face. That expression didn’t last long as her lips curved up. “And you and Romeo seem close now.”
“Ha!” I shook my head in disbelief. “He said he doesn’t take photos. I doubt he’d do autographs– Anyway, I can’t just walk up to him and ask. We aren’t exactly friends.”
“But you work together. You’re practically colleagues.”
“We work in the same building doing different things.” Very different things.
“Please?” Her eyebrows knit together as she pressed her hands together and batted her lashes. “Aiden and I had a little-ish fight the other day and I want to make it up to him.”
I paused. “You had a fight?”
She waved the subject off. “Over something silly— Please? I’ll cook every night this week. No, every night this month.”
I laughed a little. “Kira, you can’t cook.”
“I’ll do the dishes.”
“Romeo and I have nothing to do with each other, Kira.”
She stopped walking and looked at me skeptically. Brow raised suggestively. “He dislocated someone’s jaw and you slept in his bed, but you have nothing to do with each other.”
“That’s different...”
“I’m still curious about why he would go to all that trouble.” She was still looking at me closely.
“Maybe he was being polite,” I shrugged.
“Very polite.”
“If I get his signature, will you stop wiggling your eyebrows?”
With my track record of speaking to Dean, I wasn’t confident that I wouldn’t turn tomato red when I approached him about a signature. At this rate, he probably thought I had trouble regulating body heat.
