“I’ll call a rideshare. Now get out of my way before I make you sing soprano.”
Lina gave up ogling Nash and leaned over my shoulder. “Okay. What’s their story?”
“I don’t know. They won’t tell anyone.”
“Ooooh. I love a torrid secret past,” she said.
“We can hear you,” Sloane said dryly without breaking her sexy staring contest with Lucian.
“We’re all friends here,” I began.
“No, we’re not,” Lucian insisted.
Sloane’s eyes blazed, making her look like a fiery pixie about to commit a homicide. “Finally. Something we agree on.”
My phone vibrated at Sloane’s elbow. Seconds later, Lina’s phone signaled a text. Nash and Lucian both reached for their pockets at the same time.
“For someone who doesn’t care about you, Knox sure seems concerned about how you’re doing,” Lina said, holding up her phone again.
“And what you’re saying about him,” Lucian said with a smirk.
I shook my head. “I think I’m gonna share that ride with Sloane.”
“No!” Lina grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of ruining your day. Stay. We’ll get more drinks. Talk more shit. And everyone who stays has to swear a blood oath they won’t report back to Knox.”
“I’m not staying if he’s staying,” Sloane said, shooting a murderous look at Lucian.
“And the only way you’re leaving is in my car, so sit down and order some goddamn food,” Lucian ordered.
Sloane opened her mouth, and for a second, I was worried she was going to bite him.
I clapped a hand over her mouth. “Let’s get some nachos and another round of drinks.”
Missed Calls: Knox 4.
“No fair! You said they were off-limits, Joel,” a drunkard with a skullcap and tattoos under his eyes complained from one of the pool tables when we sat down at a table with Lucian and Nash.
Joel flipped him the middle finger while our babysitters shared a look.
“See? I told you we didn’t need babysitters. We have Silver Fox Joel,” I said.
“Maybe we just want to spend some quality time with you,” Nash said, giving me the patented Morgan grin of sexiness.
I sighed hard enough to blow a napkin across the table.
“What’s wrong, Nae?” Sloane asked.
I thought about it for a beat. “Everything,” I answered finally. “Everything is wrong or broken or a mess. I used to have a plan. I used to have it all together. I know you guys might not believe this, but people didn’t use to break into my house. I didn’t have to fend off ex-fiancés or worry about the example I was setting for an eleven-year-old going on thirty.”
I looked around the table at their concerned faces.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forget the words came out of my face.”
Sloane pointed a finger in my face. “Stop that.”
I picked up my glass of water and blew bubbles in it. “Stop what?”
“Stop acting like you don’t have the right to express your own feelings.”