8
Goldie
Well.
This is going even better than I could’ve imagined.
Even the part where my face got close to Fletcher’s mustache when I leveled up the game to kiss him wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
His cologne is nice. It’s smooth with a hint of spice. Sandalwood and patchouli. It fits him.
“He’s been divorced twice,” Silas mutters to me while we pull our cheese dishes out of the oven.
“And you have a kid, a nanny you’re in danger of losing, and the world’s best baby mama who tolerates your bullshit. Maybe don’t throw ridiculous standards at my dates when your life’s even more complicated.”
“He’s also a grade-A asshole.”
“Aw, I love it when you love your teammates.”
“He’ll fuck you and leave you, Goldie.”
“Maybe I want to get fucked before I go to London. Maybe I’m using him for his big, thick, long?—”
“Fine. Fine. Okay? Fine. Just—stop talking.”
“Rude, Silas,” Porter says. “Get out of the way. The rest of us want our cheese dip.”
I smile at my brother.
He glowers back.
I don’t saystay the fuck out of my love life.
He doesn’t replywhen hell freezes over.
It’s all understood.
I circle the counter back to my seat next to Fletcher, whose wine is nearly gone.
“Don’t these look amazing?” I say as I set the two dishes in front of us and leave the hot pads on the counter beside them.
“Delicious,” he grunts.
Aww. He’s humoring me.
Such a good date.
Surprisingly so, actually. Tonight has weirdly surpassed my expectations.
“How many dates has he fucked up for you?” he asks.
See? More surprises. Who knew Fletcher Huxley could be so intuitive?
I smile darkly over my glass. “Every last one in the past two years.”
He keeps staring, a silent demand for more information.
And with Silas sitting down on his other side, well within earshot, and me with absolutely nothing to lose tonight, I oblige the demand. “There was the first date at my favorite wine bar where he plopped right down at the table with us, pulled out a private investigator’s report, and proceeded to demand answers for why the man ran a stoplight once when he was seventeen.”
