One thing Geneviève did not approve of was takeout.
To be honest, I preferred her food over anything you could buy.
Even the stuff she added all that healthy shit to.
There was a container marked, ‘supper’ and one marked, ‘lunch’.
Yeah, Geneviève had planned on staying in the apartment.
The weird, churning sensation in my stomach didn’t have anything to do with the fast food I’d eaten earlier.
It actually bothered me that she didn’t want to stay here.
How messed up was that?
“Uh, Beau? What’s up with Gigi having a separate room?” he asked, swaggering into the room with both puppies in his arms. They were both busy licking his face up. “Little missy here escaped, and I followed her into Gigi’s office. But all her shit’s in there.”
My stomach clenched as I opened up the fruit. “Nothing, she’s got lots of shit, so, she needed more room.
He didn’t buy it.
I could tell by the frown on his face. “Your master suite is huge. And G doesn’t have that much shit.”
I shrugged, trying to ignore what he was insinuating. “I’m going in the hot tub. Are you coming out?” I scooped up the food and my beer and headed outside, hoping he’d drop the subject.
He wasn’t exactlythe company I’d been fantasizing about sharing my hot tub with me tonight.
But I had to admit it was better than being alone. For some reason, I wasn’t looking forward to hearing my own echo the rest of the night.
Luckily, as soon as Trey brought the puppies outside, they started running around like crazy.
Trey included.
He really did love those goofy dogs. At first, I’d assumed he was only hanging around them to get closer to Geneviève. Now it was obvious how attached he’d become to the puppies.
His friendship with Geneviève still irked me sometimes. I’d never been close friends with a non-family member of the opposite sex. So, my suspicions had been high.
Not to mention Trey’s track record with women wasn’t exactly exemplary.
Right now, the puppies were snuggled up on the patio, sleeping. And Trey, who had ‘luckily’ worn his swim shorts over here ‘just in case’, was sitting with me in the hot tub.
He was onto his second beer and I was nearly done my third.
“So, this shit’s all fake? Or what?” he asked, glaring over at me with a critical eye. Damn it, he wasn’t going to let it lie after all.
“Man, it’s complicated.”
“I wondered how you guys made up so quickly after the last blowup with Sienna. Whatever that was about—you sure sounded madder than I think I’d ever heard before.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked out at my perfectly manicured yard.
“Was it ever real?”
That I had to answer. “Yeah,” I said, tipping my bottle back and taking a long guzzle. “More real than anything I’ve ever had. And then I fucked it up.”
“What did you do?”
The weight of carrying this bullshit suddenly seemed too heavy. “You can’t say a word about any of this. You get me?”