Page 129 of The Love Losers

I’m surprised silent, because I hadn’t believed that moment had mattered to him the way it had to me. Then I nod back, my throat tight, and squeeze Rosie’s hand again. “I think I did.”

I glance at the plaque and do a double take.

Remus Eugene Matthews.

He’s the owner of this bar—the one who pays me the rent on time, every month.

And then it hits me.

Geneis the one who set up that website.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

ANTHONY

“Give us a second,” I say, lifting a hand to Gene-slash-Remus.

“I don’t give two figs whether you’re coming or going,” he says with a grunt.

Dom laughs and returns to his position behind the bar, but I pull Rosie back toward our booth, then into the hallway leading to the bathroom.

“Hey,” she says, lifting a hand to my collar and grinning at me. “I’m all about the public fun, but I have to say I’d prefer to have bathroom sex at a place with better hygiene. It smells like a latrine back here. Maybe we can sneak into your mother’s club or something. I’m guessing she has a club.”

“Rosie,” I say in an undertone. I glance forward at Gene’s booth, but there’s no sign of him doing anything other than what he always does—half-heartedly drinking and watching TV. “The person who started that website. It wasGene.”

Laughter bursts from her, and she shoves my chest with her open palms. “You’re messing with me, Mr. Darcy. That’s a good one. I’m pretty sure that guy doesn’t actually leave that booth.”

“Probably not,” I say, meeting her gaze and lowering my hands from her shoulders, trying to show her how serious I am about this. “Because he’s the owner of this bar.”

Her lips part in surprise. “Wouldn’t you have known that?”

“His first name is Remus, and he’s kind of…” I rub my temples. “He’s eccentric. I’ve only ever spoken to him on the phone once. Otherwise all of our interactions have been over email. He sends me a scarf every Christmas.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” She shrugs and pulls a face. “Maybe less sweet if he’s a stalker, of course. But why do you think it’s him?”

“Think about it. The low effort. The fact that nothing more has been done with it. Maybe he wasn’t trying to harm us. Maybe he found out about the deal, and he didn’t want the building to get bulldozed.”

“What about calling the police on us?”

I rub my temples again, the feeling of too much crawling over me like static on my skin. She touches my arm as if she knows—and the feeling eases slightly. “I don’t know. I think we need to talk to Damien and Nicole.”

But she’s already shaking her head, her lips in a stubborn press I recognize all too well. “Nope, not happening. This is our place. And his, apparently. We’re solving this between us like men…and a lady.”

“Rosie…”

She’s already marching toward the front of the bar with purpose. I follow her, but I’m not fast enough.

Turning to face the bar, she announces, “Thirsty Thursday is now over. The bar is closed. Please exit the bar.”

When no one moves, and Dom just gives her a lazy, quizzical look, she says, “There’s pubic lice infesting the bathroom. The bar has to close for a thorough cleaning. Please leave immediately, for your own safety.”

A bar has never emptied more quickly.

“There’s lice in the bathroom, Ro?” Dom seems panicked now. Turning toward Gene’s booth, he says, “Oh shit. This isn’t good. Gene, what do we do?”

“Take a hike, kid.” Gene gives him a nod. “Looks like I'm going to have a talk with your friends here.”

“But shouldn’t you leave too? I had lice once, man, and I'm not going there again. No way, no how. I'm taking a bath in vinegar tonight.” He considers for a second, then grabs the open bottle of red “wine” that’s still waiting on the counter. “Let me know when it’s safe to come back.”

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