The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

For a couple seconds, no one spoke. Finally, I said, “I’m sorry.”

He blurted out a harsh laugh and sent me a weary glance. “What the hell are you sorry for?”

“I just...I cock-blocked you,” I mumbled. Because I was an evil, jealous bitch who hadn’t been able to stand seeing him take another woman home.

“No. You just saved me from fucking a married woman. I should be thanking you...not you apologizing to me. Idiot.”

“Still...” I blew out a long sigh. “If only I’d kept my big mouth shut, you could’ve found a little relief.”

“Or ruined a marriage,” he argued. Turning to me, he looked me dead in the eye and set his hand on my shoulder. “You saved my ass just now. Thank you, man. You’re a true friend.”

Except I didn’t feel like a friend at all. My deception pierced me to the depths of my soul and I felt like the biggest fraud ever.

A true friend would’ve just wanted him to be happy.

In that moment, I swore to myself I’d help him find a woman before the end of the night if it was the last thing I did. And who cared if I cried myself to sleep afterward. I deserved it.

Asher, on the other hand, deserved the human contact he so craved.

Well, this sucked ass. The evening had started out great and quickly nosedived into crappy. All because I’d been thinking with my stupid dick.

I was practically sober again as I finished off the last of the water I’d ordered. Next to me, Remy was pensive. He hadn’t said much since trying to apologize to me for saving my ass. He sat with his back to the bar so he could watch the crowd. I thought I knew what his mood was about, and I’d just been ignoring it for the past so many minutes. But now, now, it was time for me to do something.

After setting down my empty container, I tapped the bar top next to him to get his attention. I hadn’t seen Holden or Gally for quite some time, but that was fine. Sticks was really the only one I wanted to say goodbye to, anyway.

“I think I’m going to head out.”

He jerked his attention to me, alarmed. “What? No. Where’re you going?”

“Home.” I slipped off my stool, patting my pockets to make sure I had my wallet and keys. “I’m just...I’m going to go home.”

“Why?” Sticks shook his head, confused as he popped off his stool. “You’re not just going to give up after one dead end, are you? What about your…your need?”

I sighed, feeling like an idiot for confessing that to him in the first place. “I’m fine. It’s okay. I have a hand; it knows my cock well.”

That answer seemed to stun him. “Look.” I sighed, deciding to get real. “I just...I have a feeling it’d...bother you if I went home with a woman tonight. And you’re my friend. I don’t want to upset you by flaunting some chick in your face.”

There. I’d said it.

And boy had saying it gotten me a reaction.

Remy jerked backward, his eyes flying open and mouth gaping wide. He shook his head for a second before sputtering. “Excuse me? What do you mean by bother me?”

He sounded so affronted I immediately realized I’d fucked up. “Shit.” I lifted my hands, trying to restore the peace. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It sounded a lot less arrogant in my own head.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered, gawking at me as if I’d called him a liar and a cheat. “You seriously think I want you for myself, don’t you? Well, fuck you, man. I don’t care if you take home ten women tonight. Fuck whomever you like. I don’t give a shit.”

He started to turn away, but I grabbed his arm. “Hey. Shit. I’m sorry. Seriously, Rem.” I lifted my hands again. “I’m sorry. I don’t...I was being an idiot.”

He stared at me a full five seconds before muttering something in Spanish and then scrubbing his hands over his face. After lowering his hands to eye me wearily, he muttered, “Damn it. You’re right, though.” When I tipped my head to the side, he reluctantly admitted, “It would’ve bothered me.”

Hanging his head, he looked so guilty and contrite; I wanted to reassure him. I even reached for his shoulder. But then I stopped myself, not wanting to send the wrong signal.

So I blew out a breath. “I suspected as much.”

“But the thing is,” he went on, finally looking up. “No matter how I may want you and how freaking sweet and considerate your worrying about my feelings is, you’re my friend too, Asher, and I want you to be happy. So don’t go turning into some miserable monk on my account. I assure you, I’ll live.”

I nodded, watching him closely. When I was confident he really was okay with it, I said, “All right then. From here on out, I’ll just...I’ll be discreet about it.”