We step off the elevator into the carpark and make our way toward RJ’s SUV.
“So apparently your dad’s guy will be coming to Piper’s birthday tomorrow,” he comments, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. “What’s his name—Declan? Devon?”
“Deacon,” I clarify. “And she needs to get used to him being around, so she may as well start tomorrow.” I know Piper’s still having trouble with the whole Dad dating a twenty-seven-year-old guy thing, and her concerns about upsetting Dad if he knew how much she’s been struggling with it seem to have completely gone out the window since Dad and Deacon became “official”.
“She will,” RJ says. “Just give her time. You know she’s not actually homophobic or anything. It’s just a big change.”
We climb into the SUV and RJ starts the engine.
“She should be proud of the old man,” I argue, reaching over my shoulder for my seat belt. “Keeping up with a twenty-seven-year-old. And you know they’re fucking on the regular. Kit’s been staying over all week, and I’ve got Izzy at my place again tonight.”
Kit is my sister’s nanny and, to be fair, it’s not unusual for her to stay over considering Dad often has to work pretty late if there’s something big going down—I mean, she has a bedroom in the house and everything. But she’s been staying over way more often than usual lately, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all started around the same time Dad and Deacon got together.
“Yeah, for some crazy reason she sees it a little differently than you do,” RJ says dryly. “And I’d really prefer not to be thinking about my boss keeping up with his twenty-seven-year-old boyfriend when we’re in business meetings.”
“Jeez, RJ, it’s called compartmentalizing,” I drawl. “If Dad can manage to get through a meeting without thinking about you fucking his daughter, I’m sure you can manage one without trying to work out if he’s a top or a bottom.” I slide my eyes over to him. “He’s a bottom, by the way. Like, super-duper bottomy. Massive pillow-biter.”
“Jesus, fuck, Jazz!” RJ cries, shooting me a hard glare before returning his attention to the busy New York streets. “Okay, that’s it. You are banned from talking.”
“Wh—”
“Nope.” He cuts a hand through the air. “No more talking. I’m serious. I don’t want to know any of this. And Tanner wouldn’t want me to know either.”
I wince as his words hit me. Fuck, he’s right. In my eagerness to rile RJ up, I’ve gone and given away private details about Dad’s life that I only know because of the things he confided during that conversation about his “friend.”
I press my head back against the seat, letting out a sigh. “Fuck. Don’t tell him I told you.”
“As if I’m going to fucking tell him,” RJ grumbles. “I’m not even going to speak of this conversation on my deathbed.”
I roll my eyes. He’s being way too dramatic about this.
We pull up outside my building, and I’m about to get out of the car when RJ grabs my arm. “Wait. If you’re not going to be a dick, I want to show you something.”
“You know I can’t promise that,” I tell him with a smirk. “You’ll just have to take the gamble.”
He lets out a soft huff and shakes his head. For a second I think he’s going to let me go, but then he reaches over and tugs open the glove compartment, retrieving a black ring box.
I arch an eyebrow as I watch him fumble with the box, finally getting it open to reveal a diamond so big it could be mistaken as an iceberg.
“I hope you’ve got more game than that when the time actually comes,” I say wryly. “Or is this it?” I hold a hand to my chest and bat my eyes. “Randall Junior are you declaring yourself to me? Has all this dillydallying with my sister just been a long game?”
He snaps the box closed and hits me with an unimpressed glare. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. Just tell me what you think—will she like it?”
“It looks like it cost enough to feed the population of Indonesia,” I say with an eye roll. “So yeah, she’s going tofucking like it.” I reach over and give him a pat on the shoulder. “Congratulations, man.”
“She still has to say yes,” he says, a nervous smile touching his lips.
“She will.”
I finally get out of the car and head up to my apartment, dumping my gym bag on the floor near the kitchen counter.
Figuring it’s been way too long since Damon heard from me, I grab my phone from my pocket and once again open the text exchange so I can wish him a good morning.
Me
Good morning dirty boy. Did you sleep well? Nothing like a cold shower before bed to really help you drift off…
I have some good news for you. You can look forward to a full night’s worth of tips tonight. You won’t need to spend half your shift locked in the bathroom trying and failing to get a raging boner to disappear
