“I’ll be down in a while,” Tris said, already heading into the living room.
“Take your time.” Again he got the raised eyebrow look. “I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve talked to Mom and—”
“Knock yourself out. I’ve got plenty to do up here. Besides, Caity’ll be back anytime.”
Matt plastered a bland smile on his face as he ran a hand over his hair. Tris was a hair puller, so it was a freaking mess as expected. Damn shame he was overdue for a cut. He pulled a rubber band out of his pocket and yanked it back into a short ponytail, wincing at the scrape along the back of his neck.
Stubble. Had felt damn good at the time, not so much now.
He rubbed his own bristly jaw. How could women stand that sensation on their thighs? He’d have to be more mindful of shaving, since he normally considered it a hit-or-miss activity.
Being with Tris had made him more mindful of a lot of things. Personal grooming. How much fun it was falling for your best friend, even if no one else could know. Exactly how deliciously vulnerable it felt to be at your lover’s mercy when you knew he’d show you none.
And now Matt was mindful that their other best friend was about to rip into his ass in an entirely new way.
“See ya,” he said, already reaching for the doorknob. He didn’t hear Tris’s reply.
Halfway down the hall, he picked up an unopened bag of cheese puffs.
Cait’s favorite.
He sighed. Dear God, what was he going to say?
He found her in the kitchenette. She had a perfectly good kitchen upstairs in her own apartment, but he’d rightly guessed she’d be downstairs.
Anything to get away, if not very far.
Tea whistled mournfully on the stove. She ignored it, staring off into the distance while she pressed dents into the dials with her white-knuckled fingers.
“Cait.”
She whipped her head around at his voice. Her blazing blue eyes drilled into his. “I don’t want to speak to you.”
“Too bad.” He tried to ignore that she was trembling, so faintly he doubted she even realized. “I’m here, and we’re talking.”
“There isn’t anything to say.”
“Bullshit.”
She pressed her lips together and faced the cheerful rooster-patterned wallpaper above the burners. “I would tell you to go fuck yourself, but Tris already had that honor.”
“Jealous?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “We both know how much you’ve wanted that particular piece of ass since college.”
She glared at him. If he wasn’t mistaken, her trembling had become straight fury. Good. If she started to cry, he’d lose it. He could handle anything but that.
“Are you jealous?” she countered. “Since if I want his ass, I must not want yours.”
“Oooh, I’m crushed.” He rubbed his palm over his heart, his gaze measuring hers. This conversation had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, but he’d ride it out. “I expected you to deny it,” he said, hoping like hell
his voice stayed even. “To tell me I was wrong.”
Cait shrugged jerkily and yanked her teapot off the stove. She glowered again when he came up beside her to turn off the burner. “I can handle that myself, thank you very much. Don’t you have a bed to be bent over? So sorry I interrupted your private time.” She turned away, but he shot out his hand and grabbed her arm. “Let me go, dammit.”
“Not bloody likely.” He tugged her closer, noting the flare of her nostrils and the way her irises darkened like storm clouds.
She had such expressive eyes. Each nuance of emotion showed up there, a virtual guidebook to her thoughts.
Right now anger brewed in them. Maybe even jealousy. But there was more.