The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

Pulling free of Quinn because I no longer felt the urge to pound Ten’s face in, I sniffed and motioned toward the bastard prodding at his red eye. “Ask him. He obviously knows more about what’s going on in my life than I do.”

“Ten?” Pick said, turning to him.

As Ten mumbled something in response, I wiped my hands over my mouth because I still couldn’t believe what I’d just learned.

I started to whirl away, but Pick caught my arm. “Hey. Where’re you going?”

I shook my head, not exactly sure myself. I just knew I needed answers, and only one person could give them to me. “I just... I gotta go.”

He nodded, too much understanding and concern in his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you need. Everything all right?”

“No,” I snarled and ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t know. I just gotta go. I need answers.”

Pick waved me off. I sent one last glance toward Ten, shocked and hurt I’d been so off about him all this time. Then I was gone.

I didn’t call Remy. I wasn’t sure if I could talk to him—her—right now and listen to him lie to me a second longer.

Instead, I rang Gally and coaxed Jodi’s number from him with the promise that I wouldn’t have sex with her.

She answered on the second ring. “Hey, who’s this?”

I blew out a breath. “Hey, Jodi. It’s Asher. I just tried to get hold of Remy because I have some stuff to drop by for him, but he’s not answering. What’s your address again?”

“Um...oh... Well, Remy’s not here right now.”

“That’s okay,” I assured her. “I can just drop it by to you if you’re home, and you can give it to him when he gets there.”

“Oh! Well, sure.” She suddenly sounded relieved, and I narrowed my eyes because I knew she was lying to me. “In that case...” As she rattled her address off, I climbed onto my bike. “Thanks. Be there in a bit,” I told her before cutting the line and starting my ride.

I made it to Remy’s building in record time. After jogging up the stairs to her second-floor apartment, I drummed on the door until her roommate answered.

Jodi flashed me an uneasy smile as she poked only her head out into the hall. “Hey, sexy.” Then her eyebrows crinkled as she glanced at my empty arms where I had my hands buried in my pockets. “Uh...what did you have to drop off for Remy?”

“Nothing,” I answered. “I lied.” Then I slid a hand from the pocket to push on her door, letting her know I was coming in.

She didn’t try to stop me but stumbled backward, letting me barge right on in as she gaped at me with wide eyes. “Oh, um...what?”

“Is she really not here or did you lie about that too?” I asked.

Her mouth fell open. Then she whispered, “Shit. You know.”

“Yeah.” I nodded slowly, glancing around the place for signs that the drummer I’d come to know actually resided here. But it looked like a typical living room that anyone could live in.

So I strode to a nearby hallway and started for the first half opened door I saw.

“Um...whatcha doing?” Jodi asked, scurrying behind me and trying to keep pace.

I wasn’t sure. I’d never bulldozed my way into a woman’s apartment before and just started searching it. I was going at this blind, half of my conscience telling me to stop and behave, the other half needing answers.

The first doorway I peered into was a bathroom, a clearly feminine bathroom with hair products and jewelry and all kinds of girly shit splashed all over the counter, though I did spot the spray-on deodorant I’d borrowed from Remy when we’d stayed together in Chicago.

Shit. Chicago. We’d done a lot of bonding in that hotel room. And the entire time, he’d never once thought it prudent to tell me he wasn’t a man.

I pushed toward the next door and reached inside to flip on a light. The breath caught in my lungs when I realized this was definitely his—her—room. Decorated in brilliant magenta, electric blue, and lime green colors, rock and drummer posters were splashed catawampus all over the walls. Posters of Neil Peart, posters that said “Keep Calm and Drum On,” posters that said “Stick to your dreams” with a pair of drumsticks on them, pictures of bands like Metallica, Iron Maiden, Alice in Chains...Incubus.

This was so Remy’s room. And yet a girl’s room. I swallowed when I saw a lacy white bra on the floor at the foot of her bed.

Jesus, she really was a female.