Managed (VIP 2)
I blink rapidly while clutching my chest. “Can’t. Respond. Shock. Too. Great.”
Libby laughs. “See? You’ll fit in just fine.”
“Thanks.” I click beer bottles with her.
“Still not getting why Scottie would complain about Sophie on the bus,” Killian says. “He was adamant that we treat her with…” His voice turns crisp and clipped, mimicking Gabriel’s accent to a tee. “…‘the bloody respect a trained professional deserves.’”
He said that? I become a little less ticked at him. Just a little.
Rye gives an expansive sigh. “Because dumbass Jax made it sound like he’d hooked up with her.”
Killian’s mouth falls open, and he stares at Jax as if he’s sprouted horns. “You told Scottie you slept with Sophie?” he all but squeaks, which is impressive given his naturally low voice.
“It was a joke,” Jax says from his sprawl across the couch. “Calm down.”
Killian shakes his head. “Oh, man. That’s nothing to joke about. You’re dead.”
“Scottie needs to lighten up. And you do too.”
“He has every right to kick your ass.” Killian wings a bottle cap at Jax. “You violated the first law of the man code, Mr. Dead Man Walking.”
Jax frowns. “No way.”
“Yeah, you did,” Whip adds with a laugh.
Even Rye shakes his head. “You didn’t know? Who put you up to even telling Scottie that story?”
Jax sits up straight. “Brenna brought it up to him!”
Rye makes a noise of horror. “That’s just mean. Even for Brenna.”
“Eh,” Jax says, rubbing the back of his head. “I think he was giving her shit for something.”
“Clearly the man was playing with fire,” Rye deadpans.
“Truth.”
“What the hell is the first law of the man code?” I cut in.
Killian takes a sip of his beer before answering. “Never encroach upon your buddy’s territory.”
“Territory,” I parrot. “You make us sound like dogs.”
“Soph,” Whip says solemnly, “when it comes to guys and sex, we’re all dogs.”
“True,” adds Rye.
“I’m not Gabriel’s territory for him to piss over.” Not that anyone seems to believe me.
Killian’s dark eyes fill with amusement. “You’re the only one he lets call him Gabriel.”
“Shit,” Jax says with a wince. “You’re right. I missed that.”
“You’re blind then.” Whip gives Jax’s flat belly a slap. “Dude, he saw her first. That’s like calling—“
“If you say ‘dibs’,” Libby cuts in, “I will gag.”
Killian laughs and slings an arm around her. “Aw, honey, no gagging without my helping.”
At this we all gag.
“But still,” Jax says when the guys settle down. “How was I supposed to know? We’re talking about Scottie, for fuck’s sake.”
“What’s so strange about that?” I feel compelled to ask.
“He isn’t known to…er…partake,” Rye says with a shrug.
“Partake?” I look around at the guys.
“Fuck around,” Killian supplies. “He’s kind of like a monk.”
Whip nods. “When was the last time anyone saw him with a woman?”
“Fucking forever ago.” Rye shudders as if the thought terrifies him. “If he’s getting any, he’s doing it on the sly.”
Something ugly twists in my stomach. I don’t want to think of Gabriel with women. And really don’t like the idea of the guys discussing his sex life, or lack of one. Gabriel is a proud man; he’d hate this conversation. “We shouldn’t be talking about him this way.”
“You’re right,” Killian says. “No doubt his Scottie Sense is tingling.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about him,” Libby says in a stronger voice, “because it’s rude and none of our business.”
I knew I liked that woman.
Killian kisses her cheek. “Right you are, Libs.” He gives Jax a look filled with warning. “Sleep with one eye open, man.”
“He’s on another bus,” Jax grumbles.
“You look worried,” I point out. I admit this gives my inner toddler some satisfaction.
Jax’s smile is self-deprecating. “Little known fact, honey, Scottie boy is scrappy as shit. I’ve seen him make men twice his size cry for their mommas with a well-placed kick-punch combo. Fucking bare knuckle legend—”
Killian clears his throat loudly and gives a slight shake of his head.
But I’m a dog on the hunt now. “Hold on, he’s what?”
“A stone cold badass,” Rye says. “But you didn’t hear it from us. Seriously, he really can kick all our asses so…yeah, no more talking about Scottie, ‘kay?”
He’s laughing as he says it, but I get the feeling he truly doesn’t want Gabriel to find out I know about his fighting. I can respect that. Doesn’t stop me from thinking of his hard body and muscles that strain his properly cut shirts. Is that how he developed those? As a fighter? I can’t picture him getting into a fight out of anger, but a controlled match? I can see that, and it leaves me feeling oddly morose.
They move on to another topic, but I can’t help looking out of the tinted window. There’s nothing but darkness and the occasional flicker of headlights. Somewhere behind us, Gabriel is alone on his bus. I know full well he wants it that way, but I hurt for him all the same. Isolated from his friends, and why? Why does he hide himself away? Does he get lonely?