I exhaled. “Depends. My contract’s still theirs, so no matter what, at some point, I’ll go in for check-ups and a final decision.”
“Not to be an arse,” Simon used the British version, “but even with physiotherapy and all, you should start thinking about a future that’s coming anyway—cause we’re not getting any younger.”
My fingers flexed against my knee, but I kept my expression smooth. “Fuck you very much, Sir. Would you like some tea?” I said in a British accent.
Simon grinned. He knew me well enough to know when to stop pushing. “How’s Walter taking it? Grumpy as ever?”
I let out a short laugh. “He’s got new material now. The state of the country, the uselessness of the medical profession, how technology ruins everything.”
Simon chuckled. “He’s a gem.” He leaned back, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Feels weird seeing you here, mate. But good weird.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, remembering what it felt like to hold his sister in my arms last night. “Good weird.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rio step into the room, holding a glass of water. Her gaze darted between us before she took a slow sip.
Simon barely noticed.
I did. But then, I wasn’t supposed to.
“Even weirder with Rio here,” Simon said.
You have no idea, mate. Between you and me and her—I can fuck up more than one friendship here.
“I was pretty much living in GMT time so I hardly saw them,” I hurried to say. “That’s why I’m taking them to dinner tonight. Wanna come with?”
“Can’t today, but expect a dinner invitation from Nicole soon.”
Looking over at Rio, Simon called, “Hey, Ri. What up? Hope you don’t give this one a hard time.” Looking at me, he added, “On second thought, Wheaton, you can take it.”
I forced on a smile.
Rio took a long sip.
“Any chance you can babysit on the twenty-second?” Simon addressed her.
“Twenty-second? Sure.”
“Hey, you should come, too.” He turned to look at me. “Chloe’s been asking about her famous uncle Owen from England who sends her the best gifts for Christmas and birthdays. Even Emma knows your name.”
My gaze crossed paths with that of Rio’s.
“Then I have to be there.” Tearing my gaze from her, I turned to look at Simon again. “So that’s instead of that dinner you said Nicole has in mind?” I had to act as if no undercurrents flowed between me and his sister right under his nose.
“You’re not getting off the hook that easy.” Simon laughed and patted my shoulder.
FRESH FROM A SHOWER, I pulled on a pair of slim black chinos and a fitted dark gray button-down shirt, leaving the collar open. Rugged black boots completed the look. A quick glance in the mirror—I cuffed my sleeves, ruffled my hair, and called it good.
Fifteen minutes before eight, I stepped out of my suite just as Rio emerged from hers.
My breath hitched.
In a simple, little black dress that hugged all her curves, a pair of pumps, her hair down, two hooped earrings shining through, and a little makeup, she wasn’t just beautiful—she was a punch to the gut.
Rio had always been the epitome of your best friend’s younger sister—sweet, familiar, harmless. But I had firsthand knowledge of the fire beneath the softness, the way her body felt and moved under these clothes, how sweet, untouchable Rio unraveled in my hands.
But that was a long time ago, and I wasn’t supposed to remember.
“Right on time.” She waved her phone as if pointing to the hour on the locked screen.
