Page 30 of Closer

I throw the sheet back off the bed and flop down on the mattress.

“I’ll take it.”

“You’re sure?” Rousseau looks dubious. “There’s a full report of the structural damage, and the costs to fix it included in your paperwork there.”

“I’m not fixing it.”

“But, monsieur—”

“It’s perfect as it is.”

He raises a brow and then thrusts his pen at me. I take it and pocket it. “You don’t mind if I have my lawyer look over this, do you?”

“But of course.”

“I don’t speak French, so it would be kind of stupid of me just to sign without another pair of eyes.”

“Understood.”

“Great, well then. Why don’t you leave me your card, and I’ll have these couriered to your office?”

“Very well.” He clears his throat, probably allergic to the dust. Pussy. “And where does monsieur plan on staying in the meantime?”

I spread my arms wide. “Here. Gotta get a feel for the place before I buy, you know how it is?”

“But—”

“Okay, I show you out,” Margaux says, ushering the agent to the door, and up the stairs. I chuckle. I could kiss that woman.

Dog bounces up onto the bed beside me. I scratch his ears and look into those crazy eyes. “Where the hell did you come from, huh?”

He tilts his head to the side as if trying to understand what the fuck I’m saying, and I slide down on the bed and stare at the woman above me. Cooper Ryan might have the real thing, but hey, at least my version is naked all of the time.

Yeah, I’m sure he’s real fucking jealous. Right now, they’re probably drunk on French wine, rolling around in the bed together. Him buried balls deep inside her. And she’d be giving him that look, that thoroughly fucked and helplessly happy look that never belonged to me, even though I convinced myself it did.

“Word to the fucking wise, Dog. Don’t ever fall in love with your best friend’s girl. In fact, don’t fall in love, period. Because it hurts like a mother fucking bitch.”

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