Page 18 of Love Quest

“No, I don’t,” I lie, my cheeks heating.

“See?” Winter says sweetly to Archie. “Just you, perv.”

Archie promptly rewards me with another kick in the shins.

In an attempt to steer the conversation toward a hopefully less sexually charged subject, I ask, “Why are you and your sister at odds?”

“She slept with our best friend’s boyfriend.”

I sigh. So sex is inevitably in the picture.

Tucker asks the next question: “Not your boyfriend?”

“No,” she confirms.

“So why are you mad at her?” Archie asks.

“You have a brother?” Winter says.

“Yes.”

“You’re close?”

“Pretty close, yeah.”

“Would you get upset if he had an affair with Logan’s wife?”

“I’m not married,” I jump to say, and get kicked again for the eagerness.

Guess I deserved that.

“His girlfriend, then,” Winter says.

“I don’t have one of those either,” I note, less eagerly this time.

Winter flares her nostrils. “Boyfriend? Husband? Give me something to work with, here, I’m trying to make a point.”

“I’m not gay,” I say. And for the millionth time today, my face heats up. Everything that comes out of this woman’s mouth is thoroughly embarrassing and inappropriate. So much for being a professional, asking me about my sexuality half an hour into our second conversation. This is sexual harassment.

“So,” Winter continues, “it’s safe to assume you could have a girlfriend, in theory?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” she says to me, and then to Archie, “Suppose your brother had an affair with Logan’s imaginary girlfriend. Wouldn’t you be angry with him?”

“Yes,” Archie admits. “But we’d wrestle it out, I’d kick his ass, and once that was taken care of, we’d all get over it. I mean”—he points at me—“the way I see it, if Logan’s girlfriend was willing to cheat on him it’d be better if someone ripped the Band-Aid off sooner rather than later.”

“Ditto,” I say.

Winter shakes her head. “Nah, guys, I’m telling you… to have your significant other and your best friend stab you in the back is not that easy to forgive and forget.”

Tucker dips a spring roll into the sweet and sour sauce and asks, “Is your friend still heartbroken?” He takes a crunchy bite.

Winter falters. “No… mmm, actually, Lana, my best friend, is the happiest she’s ever been.”

I push a suspicious-looking vegetable out of the way on my plate, and say, “How come?”

“She was sort of rescued by the Sexiest Man Alive, and now they’re dating.”

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