“Ready?” Jace appears, waving his phone, mouthing sorry at us from behind Harrison’s head.
Harrison hesitates. “We could just eat here. Roman’s food is as good as anything we’ll get out.”
I should be happy with the praise. The compliment is next-level because there are plenty of fucking amazing eateries in New Orleans, but all I feel is dread. Ice spreads through my body as Harrison eyes the colorful display of vegetables on the counter. “Be better for us than the shit we were going to eat, too.”
Jace’s panic is reflected in Mateo’s face and every bone in my body. But somehow, they both squash it down. This is why we have to figure out what we’re going to tell Harry—and fast. The last thing we need is Charlotte walking in here right in the middle of a dinner meant for her. If we thought the hit Jace took on the ice was bad, it’d be nothing compared to the wrath Harry would rain down on us when he found out we’re all dating his sister.
“We have reservations.” Jace points at the door. He steps closer to Harrison and gives us an imploring look before dropping his voice. “I really wanted some alone time. I was hoping we could talk.”
Mateo doesn’t miss a beat. “Aww, do you miss your bestie?” Mateo hooks an arm around my neck before ruffling my hair. “I get it. How do you think I convinced this one to make me half a salmon? It’s been so long since we’ve had ‘us’ time, you know?” He’s laying it on thick, and all I can do is hope it works.
I push him off with feigned impatience, when all I want to do is grab him and make him moan my name. But this doesn’t seem the most appropriate time.
Mateo winks my way but promptly returns his gaze to Harrison. “Go enjoy your bro date. If there are any leftovers, well, I might share, but I doubt it.”
After a long stare at the garlic herb potatoes in the roasting pan, Harrison sighs. “Fine.” He points at me. “But you owe me dinner.” He turns to leave, spying something on the couch. “Teo, you’re a fucking pig. You don’t even pick up your conquests’ underwear anymore?” He points at the couch. “New badge of honor? Dirty lacy undies while you watch TV? Classy.”
Neither Mateo nor I breathe again until they’ve left the apartment. Jace’s fading laughter is the only thing I hear as the door shuts behind them. That was close.
I glance down at my phone, which has been lying face up during our heart-stopping encounter with Harrison, only to see Charlie messaged, saying she was on her way. And then of course, she asked if we liked the new lace panties she made this morning.
Fucking hell. That could’ve been a disaster of epic proportions.
Something’s really gotta give before we all end up so tangled in this web of lies, we all fucking burn.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Jace
Jesus fucking Christ, that was close.
I say a quiet thank you to the host and take a seat at a semi-secluded table at the back of my favorite seafood restaurant. Thank God he bypassed the small table right up front. I couldn’t imagine having this conversation with everyone and their mom—quite literally—walking by the table.
This place is already packed, and it’s only going to get worse.
Fucking Charlotte and her fucking panties. I’m already walking so close to the line, I’m surprised I haven’t fallen over it.
Did she leave them out accidentally? Either way, I’m going to turn her ass red when I get home tonight.
Fuck.
That scrap of lace almost gave me a heart attack. Harrison could have connected the dots and taken a swing at me, but thank God Mateo’s previous promiscuity saved our asses.
Harrison glances up from his menu, brow raised. “They seemed weird tonight.”
I’m so fucked. Don’t know why I thought taking Harrison to dinner would be a good thing. Guess I was hoping to clear the air between us somehow, soothe the tension before the cracks in our friendship become irreparable. But here I am, accepting a glass of water from the waiter and staring at Harrison like I no longer know what words are.
I can’t tell him Mateo and Roman are exploring the boundaries of their friendship. Even if they’ve defined what’s happening between them, it’s not my place to do it for them.
Which leaves me between a rock and a hard place. I invited Harrison here to make sure our relationship was okay, and I have nothing to talk about. Mateo, Roman, Charlotte—everyone is off-limits.
Great.
This is going to be fucking great.
“They’re always weird,” I mumble, taking a sip of water. Nailed it.
Harrison simply nods, browsing the menu, even though he gets the same thing every time we come here—blue crab beignets and their version of jambalaya. If he veers from that, I’m in trouble.