I make tea and carry it through the suite, onto the balcony. Then, before I can overthink it, I press Jagger’s number.
He picks up on the second ring.
‘Buddy! How’s it going?’
‘Good.’ I frown. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’ A pause. ‘Have you met her?’
I close my eyes, and all I can see is beautiful, sensual, naked Avery. ‘Yeah.’ The word is gruff.
‘And? What’s she like? Does she look like us?’
I grimace. ‘No.’ Too quick. I soften it with a laugh. ‘Lucky for her.’
Jagger’s laugh shows me he hasn’t picked up on my awkwardness. ‘Seriously, dude. Curiosity is killing me. Tell me everything.’
I don’t do that, obviously, but I give him the brief. Nothing about how hot she is, how I can’t be in the same room as her without wanting to drag her to bed, nothing about the fact I find her compelling and fascinating. Just the details as they pertain to the Harts.
‘She’s...angry,’ I say, though the word is a poor catchall for the emotions I felt emanating from her the evening before. ‘Finding out your dad could have been a part of her life all these years—’ I shake my head.
‘Christ, he was such a bastard.’
I nod, dragging a hand over my chin.
‘Did you tell her he was like that with all of us? That she wasn’t the only one who got the Ryan Hart treatment?’
A flash of protectiveness fires inside my chest. ‘She’s the only one he didn’t acknowledge.’
‘We don’t know he knew about her.’
‘I know that.’
‘Does she know? Can you find out if she knows if her mom spoke to him?’
Unease spreads through me. Being an instrument of investigation no longer sits well with me. But I want to find these things out for my own interest, and to help Avery. I can decide afterwards what’s appropriate to share or not. ‘I’m pretty sure she didn’t.’ I hesitate, torn between loyalty to my friends and a need to do what’s right for Avery. ‘I’ll talk to her about it,’ I offer noncommittally.
‘Does she want to meet us?’
I look over my shoulder, towards the window of the bedroom. I imagine her sleeping there, and my gut twists. The situation was complicated enough without us sleeping together thrown into the mix. Then again, it’s not as if she’s wanting anything other than this from me. On that first night she was abundantly clear about the kind of ‘relationship’ she prefers. She’ll meet the Harts one day, and forget I ever existed.
‘I think she needs time,’ I say quietly, finally. ‘It’s a shock. She needs to process it, find out what she can about you. But yeah—’ the word is a gruff acknowledgment ‘—I think she’ll come around to that in time.’
‘I want to meet her,’ Jagger says, no hint of darkness in his tone. He’s like a kid with a puppy on Christmas morning. ‘Tell her that, okay?’
I almost laugh, imagining Avery’s response if I describe Jagger’s enthusiasm. She’d be terrified. ‘I will.’
Jagger’s voice, when next he speaks, is serious. ‘Listen, buddy, I don’t know if we thanked you properly for doing this.’
Guilt perforates my soul. ‘Don’t mention it.’
‘Nah, I mean it. You put aside your own life to go and handle this for us. We owe you. You’re a great friend.’
I stare out at the moonlight and see only Avery. ‘I was happy to help.’ I disconnect the call before guilt and self-disgust can eat me alive.
CHAPTER SIX
NOTHING MAKES SENSE. I look around the room—the beige walls, white bed, cream carpet, expensive furnishings—and flop back against the pillows, piecing the night together. I’m naked. Barrett. My stomach rolls. Desire punches me, hard. But there’s something else. An ache low in my abdomen, a heaviness in the middle of my chest.