“But isn’t that woman, like…old, or something?” the blonde asks. I’d guess she’s maybe twenty-two herself.
The swear that jumps to the edge of my lips teeters back before it can plummet off. Why the fuck is everyone so obsessed with Gray’s age? She’s a whole three God-damn years older than me. If she were three years younger, it would be a complete non-issue.
I audition a number of responses to her absurd observation but dismiss every one.
‘She’s mature, not old.’
‘She’s only older by three years.’
‘Fuck off, bitch.’
They all sound defensive, and, ultimately, I don’t owe this woman an explanation. Instead, I pull out my phone and text Gray. I don’t bother hiding the screen from the blonde as she reads over my shoulder.
Ash
Heading back to the hotel now, baby. I need you to send me a pic of that beautiful body of yours so I have something to give me sweet dreams tonight.
I catch the soft whimper of the blonde as I put my phone away. Two birds, one stone. I’ve shut her up, and – if I’m lucky – I’ll have a pic of Gray to jerk off to when I get back.
I stand, and the blonde’s arm slides off me. “I’m heading out.”
Kelsier stands too. “I’ll walk you back. Don’t want you to get lost.”
“Nice to meet you ladies,” I say politely.
The brunette barely acknowledges me, since Mack has his arms around her and is whispering in her ear. The blonde looks extremely put out, but Fig takes her wrist and pulls her gently toward him.
“There now,” he tells her. “Let me buy you that drink and explain whyGunny is an idiot for passing you up.”
He gives me a quick wink.
Fig rarely takes bunnies home either, but he’ll likely make out with her, then go back to his hotel room and get reacquainted with his hand like I plan to do. Of the four of us, only Mack is getting laid tonight.
The blonde reluctantly lets Fig pull her over as Kelsier and I head for the door. She still doesn’t look happy, but Fig will keep her distracted.
The cold blasts me in the face when we step outside, and I pull my hat out of my pocket to tug it down low over my head. I know I play a sport on ice, but I got too used to living in Florida and haven’t acclimated to really cold weather just yet. I’m grateful I was only traded as far north as New England. Dealing with Canadian winters would kill me.
“I assume that was Gray you were texting,” Kelsier says. “The blonde didn’t seem happy about it.”
I grunt an all-purpose affirmation to both questions.
“And you’re really not going to tell the rest of the team about you and her yet?” he asks.
“If it was just about them, I would,” I say. “I wanted to stand up on that plane yesterday and announce to everyone that she’s mine, but it’s Kaladin I’m worried about.”
He nods. “Right.”
My phone chimes with an incoming text, and my blood pumps faster.
Kelsier glances at me. “You need to look at that?”
I shake my head. “If it’s what I hope it is, it’s not something I should open in public.”
He chuckles. “Forget I asked. Are you always this way with women you date?”
I shake my head again. “Nope. It took me a little while to realize I wanted Gray, but now that I have, something about her completely short circuits my brain and automatically reroutes blood flow to my dick.”
“Yeah, well, you know my theory on that,” he says.
