Page 83 of Sharing Shane

“What dirt? There’s no dirt.”

“Oh really?” Delia gave her an arch look, still holding the muffin aloft. “Then why did Derek come to my house, ranting and raving about you joining a sex cult?”

Veronica’s eyes bugged out. “He did what?”

Delia nodded smugly. “Came right up to my front door, pounded on it until I let him in, then demanded I help him rescue you.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Veronica fell back against the back of the couch with a groan. “What an ass.”

“After he did some weed, he calmed down and told me the whole story.” Delia’s mouth curved into a small smirk. “Not that he knew he was doing weed.”

Veronica’s eyes popped wide again. “Delia!”

“What?”

“Tell me you did not drug Derek without his knowledge.”

“It was just one little brownie. What harm could it do?”

“Delia!”

“Oh, calm down, I’m kidding.” Delia waved a hand. “I offered, he declined. He had two fingers of Scotch and spilled his guts.”

Veronica glared at her best friend and snatched the muffin out of her hand. “Don’t do things that make me feel sorry for Derek.”

“You wouldn’t feel sorry if you could’ve heard the way he was ranting and raving about what a slut you are.”

“He did not say slut.”

“Oh, but he did.” Delia’s face was grim. “That’s about when Julian came in and threw him out.”

“Good for Julian.”

“But before he did, I got a couple of names out of him. Wyatt and Shane.”

Veronica set her coffee aside to peel the wrapper off the muffin. “So?”

“So, what’s the story?”

“No story.” Veronica shrugged. “I was having lunch with them when Derek showed up, acting like a maniac. The hotel asked me to come down, to see if I could get him to leave without calling the cops. Shane and Wyatt insisted on coming with me.”

“Good for them.” Delia nodded. “Then what?”

“Then, nothing. We went up to the hotel and told Derek to leave.”

Delia’s eyes narrowed as Veronica bit into the muffin. “And that’s it? I don’t buy it. Why does Derek think that the three of you were fucking?”

Veronica swallowed. “He kept insisting we could work things out?—”

Delia snorted.

“—and I figured the easiest way to get him to scoot was to hit him in the ego. So, the three of us pretended we were fucking, and he got mad and left.”

“Pretended?”

“Yes, pretended. It worked, too. You should’ve seen his face turn purple.”

“I saw it when he came to my house. Frankly, I could’ve lived without the experience.”

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