“Aspiration pneumonia,” Sylvie answers. “He flirts with the staff one minute, then gets all ornery the next because his liquids have to be thickened.”
Faith scrunches her brow, something I see her do a lot when she hears something she doesn’t like.
“That can’t be easy for him,” Legend adds.
“He’s back at the care facility now, but he’s still having trouble getting out of bed. It took a lot out of him.”
Sylvie’s words don’t falter as I walk away. It’s as if I was never standing near the woman. I’m not even worthy of an acknowledgment.
I’ve thought about that woman more times than I can count, and I have no doubt if I gave Slick a chance to voice her opinion, she’d tell me it was ego, that I’m a little bitter at being shot down, and I’m looking for a way to patch that burn.
She’d be right. I’m self-aware enough to know that my pride took a little hit when she walked away from me six weeks ago, but I’m not a big enough asshole to try and flirt with her, to attempt to woo her into my bed, when she’s talking about her sick grandfather.
I have some standards, after all.
“Strike out again?” Ugly asks when I reach past him to grab another beer from the cooler.
“Will you fuckers just drop it?” I snarl, hoping I kept my voice low enough so none of the women in the room heard my colorful language.
Not that we had to be reminded, but being respectful, even in our choice of words, while around civilians is one of the rules of being Cerberus. Normally, it’s not a problem for me, but I seem to be keyed up this evening.
Ugly holds his hands up in faux surrender, but the wide grin on his face tells me this won’t be the last time he jabs at me about Sylvie Davis.
Boomer shifts on his feet, the beer in his hand still full. I follow his gaze across the room to find his eyes locked on Rick and Landon as they lean in close to each other, sharing secrets, or more than likely, promises of how their wedding night is going to play out.
His affect is flat. Just where in the hell is Slick when you need her?
We’ve been Cerberus for months, and I still can’t get a solid read on this guy. I don’t get the vibe that he’s bad news. If anything, he has a better moral compass than any of us, but I’ve never seen him flirt with a single woman, despite getting approached atJake’seach and every time we go out for a drink.
I open my mouth to dish out to Boomer a little of what I’ve been catching from the others, but in the next breath, I snap my mouth closed. I’m a cocky bastard, and although I’d rather drive everyone’s focus in any direction that isn’t mine, it doesn’t feel right to give him a hard time.
I drink my beer, only half listening to Ugly speak when Aro approaches. They make plans to hitJake’safter the celebration is over, and despite having every intention to head in Sylvie’s direction again when she’s done having her conversation with Faith and Legend, I agree to tag along.
Jake’shas never let me down. The single women in the community know that’s where we usually end up on the weekends and they come out in full force, the playfulness in their eyes making it clear very quickly that they’re interested in spending a little time with anyone Cerberus.
I doubt Sylvie will end up there tonight. I’ve been told I met her atJake’s, and I know for a fact if I see her again, I’ll be reacting the same damn way I can’t seem to control right now.
Sylvie Davis is sexy in that understated way. Even tonight, in the sexy dress she’s wearing for a wedding, she’s more natural looking than many of the women that wink at me atJake’s. I have no problem with flashy women. I have no problem with down-to-earth women. Hell, I just like women.
I hate that I’m seeing her differently for some reason.
“Maybe you won’t have to go toJake’sto find entertainment tonight,” Aro says, but he does it in a way that I know is only going to start up a brand-new series of jokes and prodding about Sylvie.
That’s why when I see the woman hug her friend and shake Legend’s hand before heading toward the front door. I keep my feet locked in place.
The joking will eventually stop, and I have no intention of doing anything to prolong it.
“How much strength did that take?”
“I’m sorry?” I turn toward Slick, taking a step back when I see it’s just her and me standing here.
“How long before you stop getting that deer-in-the-headlights look when I approach you?”
I’d argue her point, but I have no doubt the woman would call me out on it.
“That’s not what you asked,” I mutter, frowning when I turn my beer up only to discover it’s empty.
“I asked how much strength it took to let Sylvie Davis walk out of here and not follow her to her car.”