I showered and changed and left for the restaurant. I arrived at six exactly and laughed to myself that Dev and Brody weren’t there yet. Forty minutes later they appeared and I wagged my finger at them.
“See? This is why you still need an assistant. You wouldn’t be so late.”
Dev’s smile was quick and didn’t reach his eyes, and my heart began to pound. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s sit. I need a drink.”
Considering Dev wasn’t much of a drinker, I grew more concerned, and Brody’s stoic face didn’t help. The server approached us, gushed over Dev and Brody, and took our orders. Dev ordered whiskey, and Brody a beer, like me.
“The day at the beach did wonders. Last night I got laid low by a stomach virus. The absolute worst.”
Dev drummed his fingers on the table. “A stomach virus? From what?”
“I dunno, but I don’t want a repeat. Glad it only lasted a day.”
“So you didn’t go out last night?”
I wet my lips, wondering what the hell was going on. “No, I stayed in my room. Why are you asking?”
Our orders came, and though Dev had stated he needed the drink, he merely held the tumbler. We sat in silence for a minute, and then Dev pushed the glass aside and leaned in close.
“You know I love you. But I need you to tell me the truth.”
My brows drew together, and I laughed. “Okay, I love you too. What’s going on? Of course I’m going to tell you the truth. I always have. The truth about what?”
He huffed out a breath and pulled out his phone, scrolling for a second before stopping on a picture. He handed me the phone, and my stomach went into free fall. It was a picture of Patrick from the elevator. His hands were on my ass, and it was obvious he was kissing me. I met Dev’s eyes.
“Why are you showing me a picture of Patrick kissing some girl?”
His eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying that’s not you? Because that sure as hell looks like the back of your head and your beautiful blond hair.”
I folded my arms. “Right, Dev. Because in Southern California there are no women with shoulder-length blond hair.” Our gazes clashed. As much as I hated lying to Dev, I couldn’t out Patrick. “And why are you getting photos of Patrick? That’s so creepy—someone taking pictures of him.”
“He’s a celebrity, and his former girlfriend was on the cover of the last swimsuit edition ofSports Beautiful. Patrick has always surrounded himself with beautiful women—his ex-wives were both top models for that famous underwear chain. Someone probably got a tip he was at a hotel and waited to see whom he was with. This was on some local gossip site, but you know how it goes—things can blow up and become big in the blink of an eye.”
Brody finally spoke. “We’re concerned only because we don’t want to see you taken advantage of.”
Irritated, I took a swig of my beer. “Last I checked, I was over thirty years old and living on my own since I went to college. I think I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but—”
“No, Dev,” I snapped. “No buts. There’s nothing going on, and I resent you trying to get me to say there is. Did you invite me to dinner to interrogate me or to catch up? Because if it’s the former, I’m leaving.”
“All right, all right. Stop being so touchy. It’s only because if youarein a relationship, I want it to be healthy and with someone who can acknowledge the special man you are.” He took a sip of his drink and grimaced. “Ugh. Why did I order this? I hate whiskey.”
Despite my annoyance, my lips twitched. “I guess that’s your serious-lecture drink. And I know you’re concerned, but I’m fine. You have to stop thinking of me as that helpless little kid who had no place to go. I’m an adult, and I make my own choices, and whether they’re good or bad in your opinion is just that. Your opinion.” Seeing him readying to open his mouth, I put up my hand. “But that doesn’t mean what you think. I work for Patrick, and his personal life is private.”
It physically hurt to deny my feelings for Patrick, but I’d have to get used to it. This conversation with Dev and Brody proved it. No way could Patrick make this work without ramifications from all sides, and I’d never be the one to jeopardize his livelihood.
Skeptical still, Dev’s shrewd eyes studied me. “I still think you’re not telling me the whole story, but I won’t get into an argument. Let’s order dinner.”
“Good. Because I’m hungry,” I stated. “And I want a steak.”
It ended up being a nice evening, and I caught up on Dev and Brody’s charity work and the summer football camp they’d started in Brody’s hometown.
“How’s my ex, Kelsie, doing?” Dev laughed as he finished his coffee. “I heard they’re expecting a baby?” My cousin Kelsie had once played the part of Dev’s girl of the moment to throw an overcurious teammate off the scent of gossip.
“Yep. In January.” Kelsie had married one of their old teammates and moved to North Carolina to be close to his family. When it came to lousy parenting, my uncle was no different from my father and wanted nothing to do with Kelsie once she’d married a Black man. Marlon’s parents welcomed her with open arms, especially now that they were going to be grandparents.
