“Ooh, you should wear these!” I held up a pair of dark, faded, and very narrow jeans for his inspection.
Armand eyed them warily and shook his head. “No, Lakshmi bought them for me, and they’re far too tight in the ... Eerhm, they don’t fit.”
“All right, you’ve just convinced me, you’redefinitelywearing these.” I tossed them at his head and turned back to continue burrowing through his suitcase.
“Titch!” There was a strangled bark behind me, and I turned again to see him gripping the jeans with both hands fisted, the color rising clearer than ever in his recently exfoliated face. “No. This is—arrgh—Listento me: My goal is not and never hasbeento show off my arse, all right? That isnothow I want to impress Lucas.” He cringed. “I meanDrake House. Bloody hell.”
I folded my arms over my chest and gave him a long perusal, head to toe and back, just to see if I could make him go any redder. “Forget Drake House. I told you, Lucas will be there, and would you rather he associate you with abloody footor atight keister?”
He sputtered at me for a few seconds, then hung his head, shoulders sagging.
“Good man.”
When I was done with him and he re-emerged from the bedroom, he looked a lot better than he had any right to expect, especially considering how much resistance he’d put up. It was like he had no sense of self-preservation ... which, considering his lifestyle, shouldn’t have come as a surprise.
Though I couldn’t help noticing he smelled a lot less like whiskey than he usually did.
“Okay, let me see.” I grabbed Armand’s arms and tried to get him to straighten up, then stepped back.
Oh yeah, I wasgood. I’d found a tight black turtleneck in his suitcase, and I’d gotten his curls to do this swoop thing, and now that he’dshaved, he resembled a movie star in their second week of rehab. Seriously, if you didn’t know him and he never opened his mouth, you’d think he’d stepped off a runway somewhere.
Speaking of ...
“You got your speech?” I asked, like a mom asking a toddler about their lunch bag.
He glared, but then tellingly patted his pockets. “Aye.”
“You’re going to dogreat, I promise.” I glanced at the kitchen clock. “The organizers wanted you to be there by one, so we’ve got some time to burn. What do you want to do? Go scream under an overpass?”
He bit his lip and shook his head at me. “We could go to campus,” he said, his rumbly voice weirdly soft. “To see the dean.”
I blinked at him. “We ... could do that. I don’t knowwhywe’d do that, but—”
“So you could tell her about that boy. The one who hurt you.” His voice was getting stronger even as his face looked more tortured. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, but if you wanted—” Then he broke off into a horrified squeak as I hugged him. “Titch!”
“I know, I know, this is inappropriate.” Hedefinitelysmelled less like booze. “Forget the dean. I filed a report with campus police this morning. I promise. They said they can’t do anything after the fact, because the attack was interrupted, but it’ll be on record in case ... in case he tries it again.”
“Brilliant.” I felt him swallow, still stiff as a board. Then he gave a helpless sigh and looked up at the heavens. “Can you let go of me now?”
I stepped back and grinned at him. “Man, poor Lucas has his work cut out for him.”
He glared at me and ran a hand through his hair, destroying the careful, purposefully tousled style I’d achieved and sending it straight back to just plain tousled. He wasimpossible.
“S-since we’re ignoring the basic tenets of professionalism,” he began, and hilariously tried to shove his hands into the pockets of hisverytight jeans, “may I say something about what happened between you and Skyler?”
“When have Ieverbeen professional?” I pointed out.Be a man about this, Robin.“Yeah, okay. But don’t be mean.”
Armand nodded and bit his lip. “I know you think he’s ... meant for you. Or some rubbish like that.”
“I said don’t be mean!”
“Aye, sorry.” He rubbed one of his eyebrows, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Would it really be so horrible to simply be his friend?”
“Wouldyouwant to ‘simply’ beLucas’sfriend?” I snapped.
He widened his eyes at me, eyebrows converging in concern. “Yes. I ... I’d be a bit disappointed, aye, but if that was what he wanted,absolutely.”
“Well, okay,” I huffed, “I guess you’re a better person than I am.”
