“I can’t remember the last time you were relaxed,” Duke told him.
“Pretty sure I’ve never seen it,” Reyes got in on the game.
Ink let out a low grumble and stood. Meddling assholes.
“So where have you been spending your time?” Duke pestered. “And who’s put that grin on your face?”
Reyes groaned. “We’re not doing some fucking heart-to-heart talk are we? ‘Cause if so, the two of you need to go. I fucking want to keep my breakfast down thanks.”
Duke rolled his eyes.
“I’m leaving,” Ink told him.
“You’re really not telling me?” Duke grumbled. “I could use some distraction.”
“I’ve been working, here, or playing at the club. Nothing to tell.”
“Playing at the club, huh?” Duke asked. “Any sub in particular interest you?”
“Remind me, when did you become a gossipy old woman?”
“Since he got all loved up with Sunny and now, he thinks we should all be like the two of them,” Reyes replied. “He’s trying to build her a playgroup of Littles.”
Not a bad idea. He wondered what Sunny would think of Betsy? Not that she was ready for any of that. Neither was he. Since meeting her, he’d been back to Fringe every weekend. They were making some progress on getting her to open up and let her Little out. They spent the majority of their time in the Littles’ room.
But Betsy was sheltered. Quiet. Introducing her to this rough lot would likely just scare her away.
And he didn’t want to do that. There was still something niggling at him about her. Maybe it was that she shared absolutely nothing about her private life.
He didn’t even have her cell number.
Like you gave her yours? Or have shared much about you?
He kind of liked having her as his secret. Having something that was just his.
That he didn’t have to share.
Yeah, he could be a selfish bastard. He loved Duke. But after he’d come to live with Ink’s family, he’d also kind of resented him. That was just stupid kid stuff, of course.
But sometimes it still felt like Duke had it all. He was vice-president of the club. He had the house. The business. The girl.
Ink had…well, he had a business. He was good at that. Usually. He was still having issues with contracts going to the competition.
He also had baggage and a temper.
“I’ll see you fuckers later.” He turned and walked out before Duke could keep prodding at him.
Nosy asshole.
Ink had to work hard not to pace up and down the foyer.
Why the hell hadn’t he gotten her number? Given her his?
She was now ten minutes late. Betsy was never late. In fact, she was usually standing in the foyer, waiting for him when he arrived.
Just because she’s late doesn’t mean anything is wrong.
Maybe he should go hunt down Angus, hit him up for her number. Yeah, it was against the privacy policy of the club. But if something had happened to her…if she needed him…