I roll my eyes. “Parker’s never given a shit about what I wear—trust me it’s fine. And, how is this any different than what I wear around here? I’m more covered up now than usual, and you’ve never once complained about those outfits.”
I practically live in my sexy pajamas and robes when I’m at the condo, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy the way his eyes roam over my body when I do.
“The difference is,” Beau starts, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. There’s almost a pained expression on his face as he continues. “The difference is that other people shouldn’t see you like that.”
“But you should?” I taunt, knowing I’ve got him in a vice.
Beau runs his fingers over his face. “Whatever. Leave the cat out, it’s fine.”
“Yay!” I squeal, practically tripping over the bar stool to run to my room and open the door. “You guys are going to be besties by the time I get back.”
“I doubt it,” he grumbles.
On the way out of the condo, I purposely sway my hips again, feeling his eyes watching me like a hawk.
With my hand on the doorknob, I look back at him and decide to see how far I can push him. “I’ll be gone for several hours . . . if you want to have some girl over or something.”
I’ve not seen Beau with anyone since he moved in, and not that it matters, but I’m curious if he’s dating. I mean, I know that he hardly has any time, but I’m not naive to the fact that there’s stuff that goes down in the hospitals. It’s how my brother and Cassidy met, after all.
Do I want Beau to say that he doesn’t want anyone but me?
Obviously.
But I know that’s not realistic.
Beau raises a bushy eyebrow at me, clearly not expecting my comment. “Uh, okay thanks.”
Ugh.
Me and my stupid mouth need a muzzle. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I should have left the condo and our conversation without another word. But of course, I took things too far.
Once again.
God, now I really need a drink.
Chapter 18
Claire
Señor Cuervo’s is already packed with people enjoying the two-for-one drink specials. I’ve never been a fan of beer, but something about a frozen margarita with sugar on the rim gets me every time. And yes, I recognize that adding extra sugar to an already sugary drink is ridiculous. But if I’m anything, I’m on brand.
Spotting Cassidy and Morgan in a booth at the back of the restaurant, I weave through the crowd to join them, holding my skirt down with one hand. When I wore this for the concert, I paired it with a floor-length cardigan so I didn’t have to worry about flashing anyone. I may have pretended like I was comfortable in this outfit to mess with Beau, but truthfully I’m terrified that someone’s going to see my no-no square with every step I take.
“Oh my god,” Morgan exclaims as I carefully shimmy into the booth across from them. Her eyes are wide with excitement. “You look so hot.”
I feel myself blush at the compliment. I’ve never been one for words of affirmation or praise. My family signs our cards with our names, and our names alone. No sap. No frivolous sentences about why we love each other. Nothing. So any time I get a compliment, I don’t know how to act, or what to say.
So I say nothing, choosing to pick up the menu and avoid the heat of their stares.
“Doesn’t she look hot, Cass?” Morgan whisper-yells, clearly not letting me off easy.
I draw my eyes up over the appetizer list, silently begging her to change the subject. Cassidy smirks and agrees with Morgan. “Super hot. The hottest little sister ever.”
She just loves pushing my buttons.
Darting my eyes around the room, I whisper, “Are you guys done?”
“Nope,” Morgan says, a wicked grin on her face. “Not until you admit it.”