Page 26 of The Virgin Gift (The Gift 2)
“But are you okay?” I pressed.
“I’m good. We’re good. I swear. I need to get ready for my client.”
But were we good? Was she? I couldn’t read her. Couldn’t tell if she was covering something up.
For the first time since we’d been friends, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. So I reverted to the other thing we were—temporary lovers. Leaning on that, I curled a hand around her head and whispered roughly, “I’ll see you tonight, and when I do, you’re going to get on your knees, just the way you want.”
A tremble seemed to vibrate across her body. Her chocolate eyes sparkled. There. I’d restored our balance by focusing on the mission—her list. The decadent, fantastic list that I was lucky enough to work on.
God bless women and their to-do-loving minds.
Grabbing the phone, I headed for the door and unmuted it, returning to Brandon.
Brandon stared, wide-eyed, like he was tapping his toe. “Oh, hi. How are you? Good to see you again. I did all my banking and taxes and emails while you were gone. So, ahem, what was that?”
“What was what?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
His eyebrow rose. “That was, like, a minute-long conversation. On mute.” He tapped his chin, like he was deep in thought. “Gee, I wonder. Are you involved with her?”
Pushing open the stairwell, I headed for the steps so I could have this talk in private, though I didn’t intend to tell him a single thing Nina had confided in me. Well, she’d only confided in me after I’d stumbled across the treasure map to her desire. But even so, she’d shared something private, and I wasn’t about to serve it up to anyone. If Nina chose to tell her friends, that was one thing. It wasn’t my info to share.
“No, but I had something I needed to talk to her about that didn’t pertain to you. What brings you to Vegas? How long will you be in town?”
“Didn’t ‘pertain’ to me? Aren’t you fancy?”
I rolled my eyes. “Answers, man, answers.”
“I arrive Saturday morning. Last-minute meetings at the big convention in town. Didn’t expect to be going, but alas, plans change. I’ll be there for a couple of days, then I’m heading to Los Angeles for a shoot. A commercial I’m doing for a watchmaker.” Brandon was a top-notch cinematographer, working for advertisers all over the world.
“Need a place to stay here? Mine is being painted, but they should be done by then.”
“I don’t want to cramp your style. I’m sure I can find some dingy cut-rate motel off the Strip.”
I rolled my eyes. “The offer stands.”
“Merci.” His expression shifted to serious. “Listen, if you’re not involved with Nina, what do you think about me—”
“No.” One word. Sharp as a knife.
He cracked up, pointing at me, laughing his head off. “You are so busted. The way you flew off the handle was brilliant. Does she know you’re secretly in love with her?”
I bounded down the steps, scoffing at his assessment. He was wrong. Dead wrong. That feeling in my chest last night wasn’t love. It was . . . what was it? I snapped my fingers, finding the answer. Affection. Yeah, that sounded about right. Naturally I’d feel affection for a good friend. Not love. Besides, my heart was in time-out after Rose, and the clock hadn’t wound down yet. “First of all, I’m not in love with her. I’m not in anything with her. But I still don’t want you hitting on her,” I said.
“And why’s that?”
I wasn’t going to tell him the nitty-gritty, but I could still be honest. “Because you’re a layover. And she’s not that kind of girl. She’s not into hookups,” I said, confident that what Nina and I were doing was not a hookup.
We were having a moment to work through her wishes.
A bucket list was born out of need, not out of an itch to scratch.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Then, once you do find the balls to make your move, you’d better make sure you’re not a hookup.”
“Again, I’m not making any moves. She’s a friend. Just a friend.”
He moved closer to the screen. “Sure, for now. But even through the haze of FaceTime, I can tell by the way you look at her. Don’t forget—I record emotions for a living, and yours are written all over your face. You might want to deal with that sooner rather than later.”
“Thanks for the unsolicited advice,” I said robotically. “Please remember to check it at the door next time.”
He smiled, a gregarious grin I knew well. “C’mon. It’s what I do, man. I tell you the truth because that’s my job. That’s what we do for each other. You’ve always called me out on my bullshit when it comes to women and work and life. Hell, how many times have you told me I need to move on?”
