Brent rested with a shoulder against the opposite wall with my bags at his feet. He wore nothing but the blanket wrapped around his waist, arms crossed, muscles bulging. His eyes were bloodshot, but alert and watchful. He stared Cole in the eye for a few moments, both saying nothing, before his gaze slid to mine. It looked like Brent had regained his inner calm.
“So you’re taking birth control?” he asked, his gaze unflinching.
My jaw dropped.
I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation, even if I felt slightly guilty. “Does everyone ask things twice here in New York?”
“Yes. Sometimes three or four. Cole wasn’t completely unjustified in what he said.” He glanced at Cole and back at me. “Now answer the question.”
“Yes. I’m on the darn pill.” I hoped a lightning bolt didn’t strike me down. I didn’t glance at Cole, figuring that would make me look guilt-ridden after his little speech.
“I’m clean, too, by the way. I was tested three weeks ago and haven’t had sex since.”
At my look of disbelief, he explained, “Sarah’s been out of town.”
My teeth grinded. “Sarah is Supermodel?”
He didn’t look away. “Yes.”
Lord, my head hurt.
“I think I’m done talkin’ with men for a while.” I leaned out the door and picked up my bags, pushing Cole out with a hip bump and banging the door shut with my foot. Good riddance.
Chapter Seven
TRUDGING INTO the kitchen ahalf hour later, I was showered, dressed, and feeling embarrassed for how I acted with Cole in the bathroom. While the blessed, raining heat of the shower had washed away the stink, I had realized that he had been right. What he had asked wasn’t so bad. Or wrong. He had every right to double-check, since a surprise variable had “broken”. But, I still wasn’t saying anything about the pill. I figured that was my business – plus, it really would only worry them – until it actually became a problem. If it did, I would tell them the truth.
So, feeling like crap, I was set to leave with everyone. I had tucked away my rolling suitcase in one of Brent’s bedrooms, grabbing what I needed from it, and now I had only my duffle and purse to travel with. Currently, all I had to do was find Cole and apologize…and scout down some water and aspirin. That was a definite must. So, I had followed the drifting voices, which had led me to the kitchen.
Hell’s kitchen, to be exact, I decided as I wrestled through my purse for my sunglasses. I knew the darn things were in here somewhere. I just had to find them before my retinas were fried from the overhead lighting. I rubbed my forehead in agitation. Did Brent really need to illuminate the entire city of New York from this very room? He could power an entire small country with the amount of energy he was wasting in here.
The room was bustling with activity as they scraped dishes and put away their ingredients from their earlier breakfast. How could they manage to stay in here for that long? I knew tanning beds that were safer.
Zane strolled in a circle around me while I kept on digging. “You’re not going to wear that are you?” he questioned, humor splashing his tone. What was so darn funny?
“Why does everyone insist of asking me that?” I muttered heatedly, taking items out of my purse and setting them on a counter so I would have better odds tracking down my elusive sunglasses.
“Ah, honey. Even I have issues with this outfit,” Ally murmured softly.
“What are you people babbling about?” I asked in frustration, pausing from my important hunt to look up. I peered through the sunbeams of fake lighting and saw they were all checking me out. I rubbed my eyes, andreallysaw them.
Everyone was in here, except for Brent. They all wore black or dark grey suits that cost more than a number of cars I had owned in the past. Almost as if they had stepped off a runway. Including Ally, who had on a two-piece suit. The pencil skirt made her legs look great. I glanced down at my own.
Hmm.
“So you really do dress this way on purpose,” Cole spoke softly, as if to himself. Blue, secluded eyes scrutinized me unhurriedly from my shoes up. His gaze caught at my breasts. A slow blink, then they traveled to my face. “I had wondered about last night’s attire.”
He closed the dishwasher and pulled the tail of his red, silk tie out of his white dress shirt where he had stuck it for safe keeping while doing the dishes. He straightened it and buttoned his black suit jacket, adjusting the cuffs so they were perfectly aligned. He looked like a million bucks.
“I’m not dressed like y’all, but I don’t see what the problem is,” I told the entire room before dropping my head to review my outfit again. Black t-shirt with pink writing on it that saidBOOM!across my chest with a bomb exploding in the middleand written under the picture wasBe afraid, be very afraid, black army capris, oversized silver studded belt, black polka dotted pink knee high socks that matched the lettering on my shirt, and black converse. Totally the norm. Nothing unusual here. My make-up was subdued today with only black mascara and pink lip gloss. I had figured lining my eyes in black would have only enhanced the fact that they were bloodshot. “I like what I’m wearin’.”
Zane snorted.
“What?” I prodded, placing my hands on my hips.
“Other than the fact that our client’s meeting us at the airport in Orlando, I think the real issue is your shirt,” Stash replied. He acted like he was speaking to a two year old. My hackles rose.
“What about my shirt? It’s clean and doesn’t have any holes. Besides, it’s my favorite.” I tugged on the hem of it. For some reason I felt like I was missing something. I was starting to feel self-conscious. A blush stained my cheeks. “Not everyone has to look the same in the world.” That would be darn boring, if you asked me.
