Like she knows there’s a story I’m not sharing.
Thank goodness for Roger. He’s missing all of the undertones as he squints at me. “That one’s Davis, right? Too hairy. You probably couldn’t see him through all that hair even if he was naked.”
Annika laughs, then cringes. “Dammit.”
“Pee break?” I ask.
“Why is it always like this?”
“Do you want the real medical answer, or do you just want me to tell you that nature hates us?”
“Nature hates us works for me.” She rises and heads toward the public area of the museum too. “Don’t spill the good gossip without me.”
Roger snorts softly. “We’re not letting her within a mile of this gossip,” he mutters to Maria.
Maria nods back. “I know my girl’s strong and capable, but I agree. What we’re about to tell you stays with us andonlyus. Understand?”
Forget the gyro.
I want the tea. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Areyougonna tell that boy bander?” Roger growls at me.
Maria clucks her tongue. “Roger. He probably already knows.”
“But he might not.”
“But he probably does. Annika said he justknowsthings.”
“Doesn’t mean we have to hand him even a single word that he might not know. And if she’s marrying him…”
Maria turns her face in my direction. Her dark brown hair is tied up in a loose bun that I honestly suspect Roger did for her.
Annika talks about him all the time.
He’s the boyfriend we all wish we could have, and he makes me believe there are still good men out there.
“Sloane,” Maria says, “we need you to promise that anything you hear in this room stays in this room, and we need to get on with it before Annika gets back.”
“You’re worried that I’m going to give secrets to a guy who didn’t even want me to know what brand of toothpaste he used this morning?” I say.
Which isn’t a promise.
But also, hedidgo into the bathroom and move something around in there before I got in to use the toilet after his friends and Giselle scared the crap out of us this morning.
So it’s the truth.
Nowhere near the whole truth, clearly.
But in the light of the day, I can almost say that orgasms aren’t enough to talk secrets out of me.
Almost.
“You’re marrying a man who keeps his toothpaste preferences from you?” Maria asks.
Dammit. “Yes. It keeps the spark of excitement alive. Just like me not telling him what I know about the treasure hunt will.”
Maria keeps her face aimed at mine and drops her voice to a whisper. “Okay, then. That’s good enough for me. Now, we don’t know this for one hundred percent certain?—”
