Page 7 of Lavender Lake
“20 percent, huh? That’s high. You close with your dad?”
“Yeah, no. We’re not doing this. You and me and the deep talks. No way.”
“That would be a no, then.” He raised his brows.
“We spent one night together, Bowman. Let’s not make this into something it isn’t.”
He let out a laugh.
“What?” I demanded.
“You’re okay going to bed with a complete stranger.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “But you don’t want to talk about your dad?”
“Spare me the therapy session,” I said, my tone cold. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like some quiet time.”
Bowman did me a favor and fell silent, but he didn’t stop watching me out of the corner of his eye.
Last night, Bowman had been exactly what I needed.
This morning, the fantasy was dead and in the light of day, reality set in.
The man saw more than I wanted him to.
“Who’s Poet?” he asked.
His words dragged me from my own thoughts. “What?”
“Poet. You mentioned Hadley making Poet her maid of honor.”
“Oh.” I remembered my rant. “Poet is our best friend and my roommate. So is Wyn. You’ll meet them at the wedding.”
If there’s still a wedding…
“It’ll happen,” he said.
“What?”
“The wedding.”
I frowned. “Did I say something out loud?”
He poked my furrowed brow. “You don’t need to speak out loud. You say it all right here. You must suck at poker.”
“I’m great at poker,” I snapped. “Because I cheat.”
His lips quivered. “Better sober up, Powell. Wouldn’t want the booze to loosen your lips. Might fuck up and say something you regret.”
“Too late.”
“Aw, tater tot, I’m hurt.”
“None of that.”
“None of what?”
“Nicknames,” I stated.
“If you were to call me a nickname, what would it be?”
