Page 64 of Nothing to No One

“Ha!” Struan raised his own glass. “I forfeit. Roxanna Kyst is way too high maintenance for me.”

“How is Sway?” she asked, recalling what had been said about Roman’s ex. “Is this hard on her?”

“She’ll bounce. She’s a tough cookie.”

Roxie’s next drink was more generous. “And silently thanking the gods, I’ll bet. But this is going to explode soon. What’s the exit strategy?”

Tripp and Roxie had manners enough to glance at her first, but Struan was their ultimate focus.

“Are you looking at me? You think I make the rules around here? You think if I made the rules that things would go the way they always do?”

“Roman’s way?” Tripp said. “He doesn’t make the rules or follow them. He makes it up as he goes along. Maximum destruction, that’s what he cares about.”

“That’s not true,” Roxie said, lowering her glass to her thigh so an opposite fingertip could touch the surface of the liquid. “He cares about his ego, his reputation, his good looks. He cares about being popular. He cares about people liking him—no scratch that, he doesn’t. He wants people to worship him. He cares about his supposed supreme entitlement—”

“Okay, okay,” Struan said, tossing back half his drink. “We know where you stand.”

“Yet no one knows where you do. This is why Thea got into it with you too because you fail to look beyond the next twenty minutes. Suppose it’s something you and your brother have in common. You got this girl into this mess and now you want to turf her out into the world when you’re done with her? Just randomly tell the press one day, ‘hey, it’s over,’ and hope they don’t eviscerate her? You know Roman will never take the blame. He’ll never be grateful. He’ll throw her to the dogs and won’t even care that—”

“Magnus said I was protected from the press here.”

“Here? Maybe, but, at some point, tomorrow, the next day, six months from now, will you still be living under this roof pretending to be Roman’s girlfriend? Excuse me, fiancée?”

“Roxie—”

“You know how I feel about Z and I doing our thing to cover those who deserve it. I don’t know much about this girl. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it, but I honestly feel immensely sorry for you, Bambi. I can’t imagine having to spend five minutes smiling in Roman’s company, let alone doing it through a whole meal.”

“I won’t be here in six months,” she said, shifting position to get a better look at Struan at the other end of the couch. “Will I? Will I be here in six months?”

What was she really asking? Would she be playing Roman’s fiancée in six months? Would they still be sneaking around making out and copping a feel wherever they could? Seemed juvenile when she put it like that, but she couldn’t imagine being away from Struan if given half a chance. Except he lived with his brother, his obstinate, demanding, prima donna brother. Would Roman give her up? Hand her off to his twin? Forget about the press. Was anyone allowed to choose someone over Roman Lowe, in his eyes?

“From the blank stares and slack jaws. I’m going to assume there is no exit strategy.”

Tripp laughed. “Come on! You’re Queen of No Exit Strategy.

“Ah! Ah!” Roxie raised an erect forefinger. “Empress of No Exit Strategy. I’m going to guess as well that Roman doesn’t treat Bambi with much respect.” There was that questioning brow arch again. “Am I right?”

Diplomacy eluded her, instead, she aimed for contrite. “I try not to spend too much time with him.”

“No one wants to spend time with him, honey. I could tell from the pictures online he’s an asshole to you. Since getting with Zairn, we’ve been kind of lining them up and knocking them down when it comes to friends and acquaintances pairing up. Seen a lot of love this year, a lot of respect, a lot of decency, seen a lot of heartbreak too. Fundamentally, Roman doesn’t care about you. It’s written all over his face and I’m not even talking about when he’s looking at you. I mean that’s obvious in itself, but it’s—”

“The little things.”

Roxie gestured with her drink. “The little things. Exactly. He holds your hand like you’re an accessory. He doesn’t walk in front of you to protect you, he does it to put himself in the lens. He wouldn’t let anyone steal the show and you’re far more interesting. Everyone knows Roman Lowe’s story, where he’s come from, where he’s going, or where he wants to go, which may be two completely different places. What you need is a wing woman.”

“She does not need a wing woman,” Struan said, shaking his head fast, leaning over to put his glass on the coffee table.

“You’re afraid of me,” Roxie taunted.

“If he’s got half a brain, he’s afraid of you. I’m afraid of you.” Tripp swallowed more from his almost empty glass. “Can we get a bottle over here? We’re professionals.”

Struan got up to go fulfill his friend’s request. She supposed anyway.

“Then a wingman.” The future Mrs. Lomond was tenacious. “Let Tripp stick with her.”

“Not a chance.”

“You trust your best friend with your girl. They shouldn’t be either if you don’t.”

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