“Am I wrong?”
I think about it before shrugging. “Guess not. What did she say?” Kayla presses her lips together, looking away. That’s answer enough. “Well…thanks for keeping her off my back.”
“She might hunt you down if you don’t go next month,” Kayla warns. “Mom finished almost a whole bottle of wine, and even she was getting annoyed by it all. Have you had any luck finding an apartment?”
It takes a beat for me to flow with the change in subject, but I’m used to the way Kayla’s mind works—always firing in several different directions at once. It’s what makes her a good journalist, even if it makes conversations with her as confusing as walking in a forest at night with no compass.
“Not in my price range,” I admit.
She hums. “Well, just keep me posted. I have a friend who is thinking of moving to Boston, and it would be nice for her to come here. We roomed together in college, so it’ll be like old times.”
This is the first I’m hearing about it, and pressure slithers down my spine. “Oh…okay. When’s she coming?”
“I don’t know.” Kayla stands up, heading for the kitchen, calling back over her shoulder, “She just said she was thinking about it.”
I pick at a thread on the blanket resting over my legs, anxiety swirling through me. I have boxes of things here, and even more stored against one wall of Barrett’s place.
It’s been hard enough feeling like I don’t have a home, but now…
My mind muddles through this new obstacle, trying to decide if it’s something I should be stressed about or not.Kayla comes back into the room with a glass and a sly look that warns me it’s not water.
“What’s that?” I ask as she sits back down.
She beams at me. “Vanilla vodka.”
I blink. “And…?”
“Just vodka.” Kayla shrugs, sipping at her drink. “I deserve it after sitting through that dinner. What are your plans tonight?”
“Barrett’s going to a poker night at a friend’s place and invited me. I don’t think I’m going.”
Her eyes brighten as she leans toward me. “Wehaveto go. I love poker, and Barrett is?—”
“Don’t!” I barely stop myself from clapping my hands over my ears because I know exactly what’s coming. Kayla never really noticed Barrett until about four years ago. Now, any chance she gets to flirt with him, she takes.
I’ve got no idea if he feels the same way about her, but I told him I don’t care—as long as I never have to hear about it.
Blergh.
Kayla laughs at my expression, shaking her head before she downs the entire glass of vodka. “Come on! You can’t tell me you really planned to spend the night on the couch, reading.” She gives my book a derisive look right before her eyes flare. “Is he wearing a kilt—you know what? Not important. What time should we turn up?”
I don’t move an inch, even when she raises her eyebrows at me. “It’s at his friend’s place,” I say reasonably. “We can’t just show up, especially when you weren’t invited.”
Kayla clucks her tongue. “Sure we can. Live a little,Charlotte.”
The way she says my name—a perfect imitation of mymother—makes me scowl. She doesn’t notice, already looking down at her outfit with a thoughtful look.
“I’ll need to change. I look like I’m about to go to church.” She’s not wrong. Her skirt is loose andbeige, with a black blouse tucked into the waistband. Kayla puts her empty glass down on the side table, marching off to her bedroom. “Ten minutes, Charlie, and then weparty!”
“It’s poker,” I correct on a mumble, setting my book down with no small amount of regret. “We’ll finish this later, Laird Lachlan.”
“You don’t looklike you’re having a good time.”
I look over as Alec steps into my side, his smile crooked and gray eyes locked on mine. He’s wearing a shirt that shows off the dark ink swirling down his arms, and there’s a glass of bourbon in his hand.
I glance back at the round dining room table, covered in green felt, cards, and chips. Barrett and Kayla are playing with four other guys who all work at Alec’s security company.
“Poker isn’t really my thing,” I confess, looking back at him, his eyes creasing as his smile widens into a grin.
