The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men 7)

“Hey, I keep forgetting to ask. Will you deejay his wedding reception? It’s going to be at Forbidden next Sunday.”

“Next Sunday? You mean, like in eight days, next Sunday?”

“Yep. I would’ve thought Eva would’ve been more into the big, drawn-out grandiose planning thing too, but apparently they’re ready now and don’t want to dawdle. So, what do you say about deejaying? You’re really the only other person I trust with the sound system.”

“I am?” The crack in Remy’s voice told me he was honored by my announcement. After clearing his throat, he sounded much less emotional and more nonchalant. “Okay, sure. No prob. How’s Pick handling it, anyway?”

“The wedding plans?” I sent him a short frown. “Like I know.” Or care.

“No.” He snorted and waved a hand. “How’s he, you know, dealing with the shock of learning so much in one day. Met his uncle, then his grandfather. How’s he doing with that?”

I sent him another strange glance. “No idea. He seemed okay to me. Why?”

“Oh, Jesus.” Remy rolled his eyes. “You hetero men. I swear. Always too afraid to talk to each other about your feelings.”

Now I was really stumped. “What the hell was I supposed to ask him?”

“No sé.” Sticks sighed as if I was impossible. “Ask if he was bien, maybe. If he wanted to talk about it. If—”

“I’m sure Eva will take care of all that. He doesn’t need me to give him a hug or pat on the head.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Remy glance my way. “And what about you?”

Huh? “What about me?”

“You don’t have an Eva to talk to or hug.”

I sent him an incredulous glance. “Yeah, and I’m not the one who met my grandfather for the first time today, either.” I’d just gotten confirmation how much my mother had truly despised me.

“Yeah, but you had to face your uncle again after not seeing him for…how long now? And you spent the entire morning with Pick, when a month ago, the idea scared the shit out of you.”

“Christ,” I groaned. “I tell you way too much.” When he just smirked, I rolled my eyes. “My uncle’s still completely impartial about anything to do with my life, and Pick...I don’t know, I’m growing on the idea of him being my brother.”

“Really?” That seemed to please Remy. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, ever since he told me he’d already researched Polly online and knew what had happened to her and my dad, I haven’t been so freaked.”

“Speaking of your dad—”

“Don’t.” Holding up a hand in his direction to cut him off, I sighed. “I haven’t seen him again since the run-in at the bar.”

Remy was quiet a moment before saying, “Well, I still think he’s following you. Keeping tabs on you.”

Of course, he did. “And I told you, I couldn’t give a shit less if he was.” Which I highly doubted he was. “As long as he stays back and I don’t have to face him, it’s all good.”

“But what if he—”

“Sticks.” I sent him a sharp glance. “I’m not worried about him. He has no reason to come after me. From the moment he realized I couldn’t help him score any drugs and I wasn’t going to give him any handouts, he probably forgot I existed. And I say good. Goodbye and good riddance.”

“Well, I’m going to stay paranoid and keep an eye out for him.”

I shook my head, even though it felt kind of nice that someone was so worried about my welfare. “Suit yourself. I hereby and from henceforth make you my official bodyguard.” When I made a sign of the cross in his direction, he snorted.

“A sign of the cross? Really? What the hell was that about?”

I snickered. “No idea. It just seemed fitting.”

He laughed back. “Man, you are so weird.”