“I am, and I’m not going to answer any questions about me until you tell me where you were last night.”
Christ, he so didn’t have time for this shit. Gus considered ignoring her demand, but the only person on the planet more stubborn than himself was Iris.
“I was with a friend.”
“You don’t have friends outside of work.”
“Apparently I do.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“A boyfriend?” She winked.
“Definitely not.”
“Right,” Iris replied, clearly enjoying herself. “I was with your boyfriend last night.” She shrugged. “Friend with benefits?”
“Just a friend,” he replied, irritated as all hell. The truth was that friends with benefits made what he’d shared with Faith sound cheap. And that was something he didn’t like.
“No sex?”
“Are we really going to talk about my sex life?”
Iris made a face. “You’re right. I don’t want to know.” She sank back in her chair. “So, you spent the night with a,” she air quoted, “‘friend.’”
“Yeah.”
“What’s her name?”
Iris was dug in, and he knew when it was time to surrender. “Her name is Faith, and she lives across the hall from me. We hang out. We enjoy each other and that’s all it is.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Jesus Christ, Iris. Let’s cut the bull. You’re bored. You’ve got no school, no job, and, as of a few weeks ago, no boyfriend.”
“Ouch. Don’t stop with the insults on my account.”
“It’s not an insult if it’s the truth.”
Kylie appeared with his breakfast, and he waited for her to drop his plate and leave.
“I know why you’re here,” she said, watching him closely.
He ignored the statement completely. “Walker is taking you back to DC tonight. You can stay at my place as long as you need. I won’t tell Mom about flunking school and the no job thing. None of it. But you need to leave. You can’t be here.”
“Have you met him?” Her question was quiet, the words small. Her eyes were too shiny. Too full of questions. Considering she’d barely been one when his mother had packed up and taken them away, he understood.
Gus picked at the sausages on his plate and slowly nodded. “A few times.”
“Walker says he’s sick.”
“Cancer.”
Iris toyed with the label on her bottle. “He doesn’t . . . like, you didn’t tell him who you were, did you?”
“No.”
