My parents' death two years ago had scarred me in ways that I would never recover from, but letting my big brother lock me away for my own safety wasn’t the answer. "Okay, we’ll go out, but nothing crazy, all right?"
Tabatha clapped her hands in glee and jumped up and down. “Yes! Bust out the leather pants because we are doing this birthday right!”
“You are way too excited for this,” I grumbled.
Tabs gyrated all around me, and I couldn’t help but giggle. “If those are your dance moves, I worry about your sanity.”
“You worry about your own moves. Who knows? Maybe we’ll even find you someone to shag.”
“Nope. Some random sweaty bloke in a bar?” Just the idea made me shudder. “No thanks. Besides, I’m not dating right now.”
“We’re going to have so much fun. There’s a new bar in Mayfair. We’re going to go to and let the rich billionaire playboys and sons of the aristocracy buy us stupidly expensive drinks. And then, we're going to head down to South London. I know of a few clubs down there, and one of them is owned by Jamal Winston. He's that Jamaican DJ I was telling you about. He is wicked. I cannot wait."
I snorted. "Tabs, why do I have a feeling that I'm going to need to carry a weapon tonight?"
"When are you ever without a weapon?"
I frowned at that. "Well, that's just good safety. And you should always carry one too."
She shrugged. "I do. But the point is, I feel like you have six whereas I have two."
I blinked rapidly. "Well, you never know when you're going to need a spare."
She lifted her brows while still managing to roll her eyes at me.
I huffed, "All right, fine, I recognized how that sounded when I said it."
"I get it. You are warrior goddess supreme. I adore you. And I don't know how to say this, but you need some dick. All work and no play is very bad for both of us. But especially for you. Time for The Heir to get the cobwebs out.”
I loathed my call sign. It was just an ever-present reminder that my parents weren’t here.
I shook my head. "Tabs."
I glanced around, hoping none of the other trainers were around, only to realize that we were alone. Gabe hadn't even stayed to get my opinion on the trainees, which meant I would have to go to him. Was that a power play?
Before my parents died, we’d been thick as thieves. But the moment they were gone, he’d changed. He’d become cold, distant, exacting. He’d also gotten a little wild about my safety.
Tabs snorted, the little sound bringing me out of my reverie. "I love how we're both looking for him but for completely different reasons."
I rolled my eyes. "Please Tabs, I beg you, do not tell me all the dirty things you want to do to my brother."
"He’s a pain in the arse, but he’s a hot pain in the arse."
I shuddered. "That's gross. He's just Gabe."
She gave me a wicked grin and waggled her eyebrows. "Yes, he is Gabe. Those broad shoulders... I've watched him train. Shirtless, all sweaty, six-pack abs. That man is fine. How you don't see it, is beyond me."
I wasn't blind. I knew Gabe was a looker. I just also had a front row seat to all his flaws. But he was the only person in the world I fully trusted, and that was saying a lot. I loved Tabs to pieces, but sometimes I didn't trust her decisions or the risks she took. I’d trust Gabe with my life, though I resented the fact that he wouldn't let me out in the field.
"Look, I already agreed to go out with you tonight, so there's no reason to gross me out."
She giggled. "All right, fine, I will keep my lecherous thoughts to myself, but that man is scorching hot."
"So gross."
"He's so fit. But it’s not like he would ever look at me that way. Every time he does, he’s irritated about it."
I frowned at that. Tabs was stunning. If she had insecurities, what hope was there for us mere mortals? And if Gabe ever did date, hell if he ever left his office, Tabs would be good for him. She was just the sunshine he needed. Not to mention she was great in the field, amazing at hand-to-hand, and distracting for her opponent at the very least. But rumor was, when she'd been a trainee, she had turned down a senior member of the Oversight, some lecherous old fart who'd thought she needed to test out her honey ops training.