“You’re not loyal?” I scowl at the man and drop a hand to my hip. “Makes sense, considering that first chick, and the girl with the Risotto.”
“No,” Emma scowls. “The opposite. He’s too fucking loyal, to a woman who is trashier than a panda in an alleyway. They had feelings one time, and now he feels like he can’t dump her into a volcano like she deserves.”
“So who’s…” I point toward the hall. “Who was that?”
“Yeah, Rob.” Emma looks to him and lifts a brow. “Who was that?”
“That was my bad,” Luke sheepishly says. “Risotto was here last night, I booted her out, then I took him out and got him plastered on cheap booze.”
“Seems I wasn’t the only one,” Rob smirks and winks for me. “Jäger and Miss Dixie’s? Seriously.”
“That’s a whole ‘nother bag of what the fuck.” Emma moves to the statues and shakes her head at the llama. “What the hell did you do?”
“I have a headache.” I press my hands to my face and barely stop short of crying. “It hurts like a train is running over my brain, then backing it up and doing it again.”
“Here.” Luke leaves my side and snags a bottle of water from the fridge. He hip-bumps Emma aside, slams the fridge again, then he reaches up and snags a bottle of ibuprofen from the cupboard above. “Come back to the room. We’re going to rest,” he says for Rob and Emma. “Be quiet, and don’t murder anybody.”
“I don’t murder anyone, ever.” Rob scowls.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Luke replies on a laugh.
He grabs my hand and pulls me into the hall, only to stop again when we meet up with Busty-With-Legs. “Get out, and run far away. Don’t look the blonde in the eyes. Don’t speak to her. Do not give her sass.”
“She important?”
“The most. Best friend,” Luke answers with a shiver. “And a fighter. She’s good at what she does, and she’s fed up with women messing with her man. Just say your goodbyes and move along. It was nice meeting you.”
“And you,” she chuckles and shakes her head. “Until we meet again.”
“Bye. You.” He pulls me along. “My room. Clothing optional.”
“Luke!” I stumble in my heels, but he catches me.
I drop down onto his bed and grab my head when it hurts, but he’s fast, kneels in front of my legs and offers the water and medication.
“It hurts,” I whimper.
“You got hammered last night.”
When I don’t take his offerings, Luke opens the bottle of ibuprofen and shakes two out onto his palm. Then he sets the bottle aside and cracks the water open. When I make no move to take either, he reaches up, opens my mouth with a gentle finger on my chin, then he places both capsules on my tongue and smiles when I don’t bite his fingers off.
“Here you go,” he croons.
He places the bottle of water in my hands, and helps me wrap my fingers around so it doesn’t fall to the floor, then, bringing my hands up, he helps me tip it back so cold water rushes over my tongue and down my throat.
“The bit about how you and I met last week, so you had dibs over that chick…” He smiles and wipes a dot of water from beneath my bottom lip. “Turned me on a little.”
“I’m fairly certain watching a tumbleweed in the desert turns you on,” I croak past my aching throat, only to sigh when the cold water hits my stomach. I study his eyes, since he’s literally less than a foot away. “I didn’t know you were a twin.”
“You knew I had a brother.”
“Yeah, you mentioned him, but…” I shake my head. “I didn’t connect it all. So then that other chick walked out—”
“It pissed you off.”
“Little bit,” I admit.
“See, I told you. You are incapable of having a one-night stand and not catching feels. You’re a marry-up chick, white picket fence, family brunch and all that shit.”
“What the hell are you talking about? We didn’t have a one-night stand. We didn’t sleep together.”
“Exactly.” He lifts my water again and helps tip it back. “We didn’t even have sex, and you’re already throwing down with some chick about how you met me first.”
“I was pissed because you were…” I frown and wipe a hand over my lips. “I thought it was you, and that was rude. I wasn’t mad because I’ve caught feelings. I was mad because you were being rude.”
“You pissed on my leg.” He smiles and places the bottle on the floor. “Do you remember stealing the llama?”
“No!” I’m not sure if I’m happy or sad. Laughing or crying. “I don’t remember much of anything.”
“We are in so much fucking trouble when Dixie reports him as stolen. And the cops will come here first. They always do.”
“If the cops come here first, then why do you have that other statue too?”
“Because I…” He stops for a moment, and frowns. “It’s our turn. It’s just the way it is.”
“And if the cops knock on your front door and ask to come in?”
“Then Rob and I are going to prison. And anyone who is in this apartment at that time is probably also going to prison, because that would make you an accessory.”
“Lovely.” I flop back onto the bed and cover my eyes with my arm. “I’m never going to be able to practice in this town, you know that, right? First, everyone is going to assume I’m sleeping with clients.”
“Just one client,” he inserts, and draws a pattern on my knee with his fingertip.
“And now I’m stealing things, and an accessory to previous crimes.”
“Busy girl. Are you feeling better yet?”
“No.” I press a hand to my stomach, and groan. “Why aren’t you sick like this?”
“I’ve had more practice than you, and I weigh a hell of a lot more. My blood-to-alcohol ratio is different from yours.”
“My kidneys are swelling.” I try to reach around and touch the throbbing organs. “Can kidneys explode like appendixes can?”
“No clue, Doogie. Shouldn’t you know the answer to that?”
“No. Shut up.”
I lift my head, and look down my body to find Luke’s eyes staring at the tops of my thighs. My dress has ridden up, and my legs are open, just a little. There’s no full-frontal exposure or anything, but there’s a hint, a tease, a temptation.
“Today is the worst,” I whimper.
Luke licks his lips and sends my brain swirling in a whole new direction. “Agree to disagree. I’m having a lot of fun.”
“You need to…” I push up to my butt and press my hands to his bare shoulders to push him away. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what? Like you look good enough to eat?”
The word ‘eat’ rolling off his tongue makes my stomach turn to lava, and my heart skip a beat.
“Don’t say that.”
“It turns you on, huh?” He looks back to my thighs, and groans in the back of his throat. “Your panties are a little wet, Allyson. And I know it has everything to do with that word.”