I really am the fucked-up beast she thinks I am. I’m supposed to be earning her trust, not shattering it.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel low around my waist. My phone buzzes against the vanity, screen lit, demanding my attention. Bash. Of course.
I pour whiskey into a glass from the bottle I keep on the vanity. I already know I need something strong to get through this conversation.
Bash: Soooo when do we get to meet her?
I take a slow drink, letting the burn drag down my throat. My thumb moves over the screen.
Me:
Never.
Bash:
Awe, come on, don’t be like that. I promise to tell her all the sweet things you’ve done.
I snort under my breath. The sound dies quickly. My thumb taps again.
Me:
I can hear the lie from here.
Bash:
But really man. The girls are going crazy over here. If you don’t bring her over soon, you’ll have all three Mrs. Everettes at your door, and don’t think for a second they won’t steal your girl if they don’t think you’re treating her well.
My jaw tightens. He’s not bluffing. Those three will definitely do it.
Me:
That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. I need more time before they meet.
I type out my next message and stare at the words a second too long before I hit Send.
Me:
I can’t risk losing her again.
Bash:
You really do make kidnapping sound romantic.
Me:
Are you going to help me or not?
Bash:
Yes…I will keep the girls away, but you fucking owe me. You have no idea what I’m risking pissing Anastasia off.
Me:
She really has you on your knees doesn’t she?
Bash:
And I’ll gladly stay down here.