“The only mouth it’s coming out of is yours.” Save me from meddling older brothers. “I said no because I wasn’t interested, and he’s Olivia’s teacher.”
“And if he wasn’t?”
“We already went over this.” Less than a minute ago, in fact. He’s not so old he can get away with that kind of memory lapse. “Are you done now?”
“Not even close. He’s pretty handsome.”
“Should I tell your partners you’ve been looking at other men?” I ask, hoping that will distract him enough to stop this line of inquiry.
“Scoping them out for you isn’t the same thing,” he replies, not taking the bait.
“You think I need my brother to scope out dates for me?”
“Based on your track record? Yeah. When was the last time you even went out on a date?”
“None of your business.” Too long. My dry spell has been just as long. Xavier hasn’t visited me for almost six months, and I haven’t slept with anyone but him in too long. In the beginning, I’d tried to bury the pain under someone else. It never worked, of course. It’s been a while since I’ve had that much enthusiasm for someone that wasn’t Xavier. A psychologist would have a field day with all of that.
“That just answers my question with prejudice.”
“I’m about to do something else with prejudice,” I inform him with fake pleasantness. If he doesn’t leave soon, he’s getting bodily thrown out. As well-meaning as all of this is, I have more important issues to be dealing with.
“Kinky.”
I can already feel the headache forming in the back of my head. “Jericho, I appreciate that—”
“Don’t give me the brush-off. I’m worried about you. That’s even before we get into the flower-and-finger scenario.”
“You make it sound even weirder when you say it like that.” And it’s weird enough. We need a different name for it. Or to just never speak of it.
“Did you find out anything more?”
“No.” A white lie. I didn’t learn anything else that he can do anything with. The last thing I need is for Jericho and Xavier to be in each other’s crosshairs. I have enough to worry about right now.
Jericho stands and crosses his arms. “Think about it.”
“About a severed finger?” Does he think I haven’t been thinking about it? I’ve spent the last week doing nothing but.And perhaps a few stray thoughts about Xavier and his shadow. Irrelevant and not something Jericho needs to know. Some things are safer kept behind closed doors.
“About your teacher.”
“Olivia’s teacher.”
“Semantics.”
It’s more than that, and I’m incredibly done with this conversation. “Tell Six to come and see me,” is all I say, effectively dismissing him.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if he didn’t do as I asked, just to spite me, but Six comes waltzing in a few minutes later. My door is a rotating one today.
“Do you know how many people get their finger cut off every week?”
“Among other things?” I imagine as an ER doctor in a past lifetime, he’s seen more than his fair share of severed everything.
Six grimaces. “Trust me, some things are better left unknown.”
I don’t doubt it. Tossing my phone over to him, he automatically catches it. “I had a strange call from an unknown number. Can you trace it for me?”
“I can try. You think it might be your admirer?”
“Spence thinks it might be.”
