Page 88 of The Best Men
He stares hard at me with gray eyes. “What the hell are you doing, dude?”
I consider playing dumb. But dumb isn’t a good look on me. “It’s a little harmless fun between consenting adults. Since when do you care who I bang?”
He runs a finger around the rim of his glass, and then looks me right in the eye. “He just got out of a six-year marriage. The guy is kind of a mess.”
“Not really,” I argue as a reflex. Does Flip know all the details on Mark’s marriage, how his wife checked out, left him for her boss, how she wiggles out of time with their kid? Does he know, too, what I’ve been able to figure out in a few days?that Mark wasn’t in love with Bridget? At least, not recently. Maybe not ever.
Flip sighs. “But I see the way he looks at you. That’s the only reason I guessed that you’ve been polishing his sword.”
“How does he look at me?” I ask, fascinated.
“Like he’s a college freshman and you’re a case of cold beer.”
“So? I’m really not seeing the problem here.”
“You’re a player, Ash. Are you trying to prove that his drunk text was right about us?”
“His drunk text said I was superhot,” I remind him. “So, sure, I’m okay with proving it.”
“You know what I mean,” Flip says. “I just think it’s dangerous to toy with him. Hannah will kill me if you break his heart. And every family gathering from now until eternity will be really fucking awkward.”
“I’m not breaking anybody’s heart,” I promise. “Show me a heart I’ve broken.”
“You don’t stick around long enough to actually break ’em,” Flip corrects. “You bruise them a little and move on.”
I bristle. That’s not true. And even though I’m supposed to be toasting Flip’s health and his marriage right now, I open my mouth to argue.Is that really what you think of me?
But a different question comes out instead. “Do you think my hair is too floofy?”
Flip looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “I’m sorry . . .what?”
“Never mind.”
We sip our scotch. I’m still sore about Flip asking me to leave Mark alone, though. I know I’m not doing anything that man doesn’t want me to do.
Andbegme to do, damn it.
Flip couldn’t possibly understand the inner workings of Mark Banks. My roomie told me to my face that he isn’t looking for more than a hookup. It’s going to be fine.
I sneak another look at my watch. Eleven-thirty. I can still make the most of tonight. For maybe the only time ever, I’m the one itching to put the fork in a night out with my bud.
Guess there’s a first time for everything.
28
I DON’T SNORE
MARK
Out the window, the night sky is blurry. Silence engulfs me as I glance around the unfamiliar room. Yawning, I rub a hand along my chin, then hunt for my glasses.
What day is it?
What the hell time is it?
Spotting my glasses on a marble coffee table, I grab them and put them on.
I’m in the tennis-court-size den of the mansion, and all the lights are out. One glance at my clothes tells me I conked out on the cushy couch.
