I blow out a breath. “Why is it that you, Ace, and Gabe aren’t dating anyone?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I shake my head.
“We prefer to not be tied down.”
“Right. You want to be able to be with any girl who strikes your fancy.”
“Most of us have been with a girl who became too obsessed with us, who left a sour taste in our mouth. We’re young yet. We don’t need to settle down.”
“I see,” I murmur quietly.
“If we were to find the one, then things might change, obviously.”
My heart starts to pound like a jackrabbit. I love that he said if we were to find the one. Of course, that could just refer to each of them finding their ones, but what if they all had the same one?
I know. I know. I’m delusional, but right now, my delusions are the only thing keeping me sane. Talk about ironic.
“Whichever girl is able to get her claws into you is going to be lucky,” I murmur.
“If she has claws, she’s not the one for me.”
I grin at him, thinking about how I like to rake my nails down guys’ backs and how they’ve never complained. There’s something about leaving a visible mark on someone else, a display of being together that can’t be ignored.
By the way, yes, a nipple can get bruised. It just turns darker. Ace really did give my nipple a hickey.
“What are you thinking about?” Zac asks.
I laugh weakly. “Nothing you want to know about.”
He stares at me, and I get the impression that he does want to know what I’m thinking, but I just gesture to his house.
Zac motions for me to go ahead of him. I enter, and my jaw drops. The place is immaculate. The interior design is beautiful. A lot of blues and grays, and it suits Zac really well.
“Did you pick out everything yourself?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. I hire someone.”
“But it really matches what I would’ve thought you would get.”
“Well, they had a catalog and made me pick out which lamps, which curtains, stuff like that, but they set everything up.”
“So you did pick the stuff out.”
“A lot more stuff than I would’ve gone for by myself.”
I walk up to the picture hanging in the foyer. It’s a lovely scene of a gazebo.
“Do you like that?” he asks.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I hate it.”
“You do? Why? Why have it hung up and in such a prominent spot if you hate it?”
Zac stares at the picture and then hangs his head. “It’s one of the only things I kept from my aunt’s place. She should I could keep it. It was only after I accepted it that she made a comment that my mom had given it to her.”