Page 66 of Nothing to No One

“HAVING A GOOD TIME,” Tripp muttered. “Until you showed up.”

How did Roman not see what his attitude did to the atmosphere? What a different life he could have if he was just a little more aware.

“I didn’t give you permission to be here.”

“Nobody asked,” Roxie said. “Especially you. I’ve seen enough of you to last me a lifetime. You’re just a scared little boy.”

“Insults don’t get us anywhere,” Magnus said, putting himself beside Roman. “They’re just having a drink. They’re friends.”

“When it suits them,” Roman said. “They’re hangers-on. Wannabes.”

“Said the washed-up has-been,” Roxie retorted. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my press is way more favorable than yours. And way more widespread. I have the world, and you can’t even get the zip code. I came here because I care about Struan. Just like Tripp. And we care about Bambi. She doesn’t deserve to have you foisted upon her. You should be kissing her feet for putting up with this to save your skin. Are you kidding?”

“Roxie…” Magnus warned.

“Okay, I know. I’m sorry. I’m poking the bear, I’ll stop. Subject change? What happened on set today?”

“Roxie,” that time it was Struan warning the blonde.

“God, a woman can’t get two words out without getting in trouble from someone.”

Roman sneered. “How does Lomond put up with you?”

“I’d tell you to ask him yourself, Roman, but I wouldn’t advise you get too close to him any time soon. My man still owes you an ass-kicking.”

“Like to see him try.” He thrust an arm toward Tripp. “And what is he doing here? I don’t want him anywhere near my sight. Show up to man up?”

“I already invited you to have your ass kicked.” Tripp exhibited no concern. Ease seemed to be his specialty. “Offer’s open-ended if you want to go now…”

In the middle of the living room in this multi-million-dollar mansion?

“Where is she?” Roman demanded.

“Sitting right there,” Tripp said, nodding toward her.

“Not her. You know who I’m talking about. Where’s Sway?”

“Not here,” Tripp said. “Bambi is the one you should be focused on. Isn’t she your fiancée?”

Did Roman know they knew it was bullshit, or were they back to perpetuating the lie?

“I’ve been calling her,” Roman spat, “sending messages. She’s not responding. You won’t let her, will you? Can’t back up the cocky playboy stuff when there’s a better guy on the scene, can you? She’ll never pick you.”

When Tripp laughed, everyone tensed… except Roxie. “She didn’t pick you. Regardless of her brief circle back to Deacon she’s not the type to travel old ground. A hot ass babe like that doesn’t need to pick up old trash.”

“You fucking asshole!”

Magnus grabbed Roman’s arm to haul him back. “No one’s fighting! Sway’s not here, is she?”

“No, and she won’t come within twenty miles of this place,” Roxie said. “Personally? I’d make it fifty, probably fifty states, but she’s scrappy, she knows what she’s doing.”

“Where have you got her locked up? With Knox Collier? You got her tied up with him? On a leash? Collared?”

“Jealous?” Tripp asked. “Never trusted you enough to engage in that kind of play. Guess some, trustworthy, men bring out the kink in her. I wouldn’t trust you to collar a dog.”

“Tripp, man,” Struan said, still holding ground on the couch.

Given the buzz in the air, if anyone moved too fast or too far, the lid would blow off the can and all kinds of worms would spill out. The permanent kind that couldn’t be put back or hidden away.

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