Page 73 of A Lifetime of Afters
“You have a thing for Noelle.”
“I do.”
“Are you going to be a problem for her?”
“No. I have no intention of causing trouble for you. For either of you,” Daire stressed. “I’m not in love with her. I can walk away. But she’s a great girl.” There was a long pause. I imagined them lining up, readying to fight. I was just about to walk in when Daire continued. “If you choose to walk away from her again, I won’t be so generous.”
“Those who eavesdrop seldom hear anything good.”
Max’s voice behind me made me jump.
“You nearly made me scream,” I hissed.
“It’s not like I was trying to sneak up on you!”
“Where were you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“What were you doing in there?”
“Really, Noelle? You want the details?”
I scowled.
He laughed and pulled me along the hall and back into the living room.
Hawkley and Daire seemed to have negotiated a truce because the rest of the evening went smoothly.
Especially after Harley returned from her self-imposed time out.
The conversation stuttered a bit when she entered the room before picking back up. Then, as it happens with these things, it came to a roaring halt.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she exclaimed. “He’s an ass. A giant ass. And there is nothing remotely sanctimonious about it.”
All three men stared at her expectantly.
She threw up her hands. “And I’m going to break up with him.”
A chorus of three replied, “When?”
She huffed out an unconvincing laugh. “Before Christmas.”
Chapter Twenty-seven - Love
Christmas Eve morning dawned bright, the light bouncing off freshly fallen snow. Bruce curled up on my chest, his tiny paws making bread on my breasts.
“You like those, buddy?” I scratched his raggedy ears. “Yeah. You’re not the only one. No scratching, ok?”
Turning his head, he nuzzled into my hand. I gave him what he wanted knowing his tolerance for my attention was often fleeting.
“Where’s Hawkley, Bruce? Is he having coffee?”
Standing up, Bruce arched his back, turned around to present his butt to me, an action I’d been assured was a gift, and settled back down for a butt scratch.
My attention drifted to the sliver of light peeking through the crack in the curtains.
Hawk hadn’t been himself since the evening at Max’s place. Like, somehow he’d been muted, becoming a shallow reflection of himself.
