Evan looked at Slade. “What’s he talking about?”
“Nothin’,” Slade said quickly.
Was Evan crazy, or was Slade blushing?
“He couldn’t take his eyes off her last night.” Atticus laughed. “Then again, half the guys in that club were starin’ at her in that dress.”
What dress?
Slade shook his head. “Trust me when I say it ain’t like that.”
Atticus laughed. “Are you scared of her or what?”
Evan waited for Slade to answer until he realized Atticus had directed the question at him.
“What?”
“You obviously don’t want to sleep in her room. Did she do somethin’ to freak you out?”
“Of course not.”
Atticus sat up, looking between Evan and Slade. “Seriously. I’m happy to talk to her. I can be polite when I need to be.”
“No,” Evan said quickly, getting to his feet. “It’s cool.”
He picked up his bag and headed for the door. He was being an idiot. The last thing he wanted was for the team to think he had a problem with Becs. It was bad enough Luca was openly treating her like a leper. If they thought Evan was bothered by her, someone might start to get the wrong impression.
Truth was, Evan didn’t have a problem with Becs. His problem was that he liked her, and at the moment, he wasn’t sure where things stood between them.
“Well, if you change your mind, you can grab a patch of carpet,” Slade offered. “We can get extra blankets and pillows.”
Evan nodded as he opened the door and stepped into the hall.
He knew Becs was on the sixth floor because that was the button she’d pressed in the elevator earlier. As he started down the hallway toward the stairs at the end, he shot her a text, asking for the number. Her response was immediate and contained only the room number, which he figured didn’t bode well for him. She was obviously upset after their argument on the street earlier. In all fairness, he could’ve handled it better, but he’d panicked when she’d gotten defensive.
Or maybe he was the one being defensive. Evan was a rational man. If he were wrong, he could admit it. And in this case, he honestly couldn’t say. He hadn’t liked a woman in so damn long…
He walked slowly, trying to come up with a way to smooth the waters. They had to work together, and as close as the team was, they would pick up on the tension immediately if he didn’t fix this.
Perhaps he should consider pushing Becs in Slade’s direction. Although his partner had rejected the idea, Evan knew him well enough to see the interest on his face when Atticus mentioned her name. They were certainly a far better pair than he would make with Becs. For one, they were the same age. Evan was eight years older than her. He had no business wanting a woman that much younger.
He arrived at Becs’s room. Evan lifted his hand to knock, then dropped it, pacing away from the door.
If he hinted that Slade was interested, he could see her reaction. If she was keen on the idea, Evan could nudge her in that direction.
So what if the idea of her with Slade made him want to put his fist through the wall? Becs deserved someone who wasn’t battered and broken, and Evan had been that way for so long that he’d gotten used to it. She deserved someone who would worship at her feet, and Slade was the kind of guy who would put his woman before all else. There were things in Evan’s life that took precedence over everything else. And he wasn’t talking about Sophia, although she was at the top of his priority list. No, there were other things. Things that would certainly interfere if he ever let himself be in another relationship.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to the door. This time, he let his knuckles meet the wood.
“Yes, hello,” Becs said as she opened the door.
At first, Evan thought she was talking to him, but then he saw she was holding her phone to her ear.
“My name’s Gladys Overwith, Decker Bromwell’s assistant. I’m looking at his credit card statement, and it looks like he stayed at your hotel the last time he was in Chelsea. I think there might be a problem. It looks like he was charged for two rooms. Can you confirm that for me?”
She walked away, so Evan stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t have that information. Mr. Bromwell…” She laughed softly. “Well, to be honest, Mr. Bromwell’s not very good at keeping track of his receipts. I know he likes to stay there, so there’s a good chance he’s stayed more than once.”
