The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7) (28 page)

After she urged him away, grasping his arm to steer him back toward the direction of our table, he tossed one last wistful glance to my door but then turned away.

I blew out a thunderous breath, counted to ten, then whipped on my mask as fast as was humanly possible, hoping to God I didn’t have it on crooked. Then I eased out of my hidey-hole and hurried back to the table as well.

No way could I let that whore get away with doing this to my Asher.

I reached them just in time. They were both standing, Tamra was slipping her purse strap over her shoulder as if getting ready to leave, and Asher was tossing some cash onto the table to take care of the tip. Then he set his hand on the small of her back and turned her toward the door. But I popped in front of them, right into their path.

They pulled up short, so I had to pretend to pull up short in surprise too. “Oh, hey. You guys leaving?” I asked innocently enough.

“Yeah.” Asher sent me an odd look. “I just tried to find you, but you weren’t in the bathroom.”

“Oh...yeah. I....” Crap. I spotted the bar and quickly ad-libbed. “I went to get another drink, then decided against it.”

He nodded. “Well, we’re going to go. This is Tamra, by the way.”

I turned to her, sending her a pleasant smile, if I did say so myself.

“Tamra, this is my friend, Remy.”

“Hey,” she greeted, holding out her fingers in one of those lame, limp-wristed ways that drove me crazy.

I took the tips of her hand anyway. “Nice to meet you.” Then I snapped my fingers and pointed. “Oh, hey. You’re that chick who was tucking her wedding ring in her purse just outside the john a few minutes ago, weren’t you?”

“Say what?” Asher whirled toward her, his eyebrows lifted.

Shock clouded her face. “I...I...I most certainly was
not
.”

“Yeah, that was definitely you,” I cooed, unable to hold back a grin as I shook my finger at her. “You were bragging to your friends about how you were about to score Asher the rock god Hart, weren’t you?”

“What? How...” She shook her head, gaping at me, trying to figure out how I knew as much as I knew. Then she whirled to Asher. “That did
not
happen. Not like that.”

Maybe not exactly the way I’d described it, but oh, it had definitely happened.

Asher didn’t seem to care how the conversation had gone down. “Are you really married?” He took a decisive step away from her.

“I...” The guilt spreading across her face told us both she was.

“And you lied about not knowing who I was,” he further accused before lifting his hands. “That’s just…not cool.” Then he turned and walked away.

Tamra’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell?” she cried.

When she glanced my way, I shrugged. “Hey...life’s a bitch and then you die, huh?”

“You...” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re such a fucking liar. Thanks for ruining my night.”

As she stomped away, I was about to call after her, something about a pot calling a kettle black, but then I stopped myself.

I
was
a liar, and I was probably a worse liar than she was. She’d only planned on tricking him for one night. I’d been tricking him for weeks, and would keep on for who knew how much longer. There was no end in sight to my deception, because I just didn’t know how to tell him the truth.

Feeling like crap times ten, I scoured the place until I found him at the bar by himself a couple minutes later, nursing some water, probably trying to sober up. His shoulders looked tense as he hunched over the counter, consoling himself.

I slumped down beside him.

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.”

He winced. “Actually...I’d rather know.”

“Huh?”

With a rueful shrug, he explained, “If you hid it, I’d drive myself insane, always wondering. Every time you’d smile or seem unusually happy, I’d think it was because you got laid. I’d always be stressing myself out, my mind coming up with the worst possible scenarios. But if I
knew
...well, then I’d know. And then I could deal with getting over it.”

I nodded. “Okay. Strangely, that makes sense. I won’t hide it from you, then.”

With a grave return nod, he answered, “Thank you.”

“So...how’re we going to work this then?” I rubbed my hands on my hips. “I really don’t want to cause you any undue distress.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “I have no idea. Maybe, like, don’t stick your tongue down a girl’s throat in front of me. That’d be great. Though I can’t picture you as the PDA type, anyway.”

I shrugged. “I never have been before.”

Sticks nodded. “Then it’ll be fine. I mean, I get to vet them, right, throw out the rotten ones I don’t approve of?”

I threw back my head and laughed. “How about you just set me up with someone who passes your muster, and if I like her, we’ll go from there.”

“Nope. Sorry.” He winced. “That would be an impossible task. Frankly, I doubt I’d find a woman good enough for you.”

Shaking my head, I sighed. I wasn’t sure about anyone not being good enough for me, I hadn’t even been able to find someone actually
willing
to be with me...for longer than a night. But I wasn’t going to think about that. Glancing at my bud, I had to admit, “You know this is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had with a guy, right?”

“You’re telling me.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I admitted
aloud
I had a thing for you.”

I shrugged, not sure how to answer. I’d had dudes hit on me before and it had wiped me clear out of my comfort zone. But for some reason, knowing what Remy thought about me was okay. Maybe because he didn’t come on strong or actually expect me to reciprocate. He was chill and laid-back about it, almost making light of his feelings so we’d ended up laughing instead of turning uneasy about it all.

So I said, “Honestly, man. I’m flattered.”

He swiped a hand my way as if to hit me in the arm. “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

Chuckling, I said, “It’s not that bad.”

“Whatever. Now you’re going to have to tell me something embarrassing about you.”

“The hell if I do.” When he scowled, I gave in. “Fine. It says Ashley on my birth certificate.”

At first, the words didn’t seem to sink in. Then he frowned and tipped his head to the side. “No way.”

“Oh...yes way. My mother was so determined I was going to be a girl, she named me Ashley Jean. Had it on my birth certificate and legalized it before my dad found out. He was so pissed off. He refused to call me that, so I eventually morphed into Asher. And when my uncle got me under his custody, he helped me get it legally changed.”

Remy’s mouth fell open. “Holy shit. She really named you Ashley...and not after Ashley Wilkes from
Gone with the Wind
, but Ashley because she wanted you to be a girl?”

“Yep. And I suspect, she would’ve raised me as if I were a girl in frilly pink dresses if my father had let her.”

“¡Dios mío! That’s just...”

When he shook his head as if dazed, I sighed and said, “Fucked up. Yeah, I know. But go ahead. Laugh it up, asshole.”

He chuckled but waved his hands as he did so. “No. Actually, it’s kind of sad.” He blew out a breath. “And here, I grew up miffed because I had such a guy name.”

I sent him a strange frown. “Huh?”

He started to open his mouth when a strange expression hit. After a second, he stuttered, “I just...you know, because of the gay thing, I kind of always preferred the more universal names that could go either way, like Alex or—”

“Remy could go either way,” I argued. “Actually, Remy for a girl would be pretty kick-ass.”

“You think?” he asked, his voice wistful.

When I frowned at him, he quickly cleared his throat. “So, about this chick we’re going to find for you tonight.” Rubbing his hands together, he scanned the crowd for possible targets, but I held up my palm.

“No. Let’s just give it a break for tonight. Besides, I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat instead.”

Remy blinked as if he’d never heard of such an idea. “Food?”

“Taco Bell,” I declared. “Only place to go after a night of drinking.” Then I grinned and quoted their slogan, “Yo quiero Taco Bell.”

“No.” Wrinkling his nose, Remy shook his head. “No, no no.
No
quiero Taco Bell. The only Mexican food I eat is made at Castañeda’s.”

Remembering the chimichanga he’d shared with me, I rubbed my stomach. That did sound good. But... “I’m guessing they’re not open this late.”

He shook his head. “But I could call my cousin Big T and get him to fire up the grill. He makes the best tostadas de tinga. Ooh, or chicharrón preparado if you just want a cold snack.”

I sighed. “Meh. Don’t bother him. Let’s just find an all-night cafe or something.”

So half an hour later, we found ourselves sitting across a diner booth from each other, scarfing down bacon, and eggs, and biscuits and gravy.

“We totally rocked tonight, huh?” Remy said, brushing crumbs off the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Better than we did in Chicago, I think.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. We were definitely developing our talent and learning to play better as a group. But the word Chicago struck a memory in me, making my mind veer in a different direction. Snapping my fingers, I pointed. “Hey, I forgot to tell you earlier. I saw shower girl at the Granada.”

Remy lowered his fork and blinked at me. Then he slowly said, “Shower girl?”

I rolled my eyes, because, really, who else could I be referring to? “The stray woman I found in our shower in Chicago...in the hotel,” I added when he continued to stare at me as if he had no clue what I was talking about.

Finally, he licked a crumb off his top lip and slowly responded. “And she was…at the Granada? Tonight?” When I nodded, he squinted. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely one hundred percent positively sure,” I answered. “It was her, same purple streaks in her hair and everything.”

“That’s...that’s...” He shook his head and sent me a sly smile. “That’s actually a little hard to believe, man. I mean, the
same
exact girl was in Chicago
and
here in Ellamore?”

He had a point. The idea was a little out there. I chewed on my bottom lip, certain it had been her, but doubting myself nonetheless. “You don’t think I’m going crazy, do you?” I finally asked. “I mean, not enough sex, jerking off too much lately… What if it’s making me delusional? Oh shit.” I sat back in my booth, stunned. “What if there wasn’t even a girl in our shower? What if she doesn’t exist, and this little obsession turns out worse than that thing I had for Incubus shirt girl, and I end up drooling and rocking in some corner because I’ve lost my damn mind?”

“Uh...” Clearly at a loss for words, Remy moved his mouth a few times but couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“Never mind,” I told him, letting him know he didn’t need to say anything. “You’re probably right. It couldn’t have been the same girl. I probably just wanted it to be her because there was, you know, so much chemistry there when I saw her in Chicago.”

“Chemistry?” Remy lifted his eyebrows in interest. “Oh really? Do tell.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Shut up, fucker. I’d rather talk about
your
infatuations than mine.”

Murmuring out a sound of pity, he tipped his head to the side. “Ah, but we already know who my current infatuation is, don’t we?”

I gulped, remembering
I
was. Shit. I hadn’t meant to go down that road again. I opened my mouth to apologize, but he swished out his hand.

“Besides, that’s old news. Let’s get back to you. This shower girl. Be honest. More or less chemistry than what you felt for Incubus shirt girl?”

I opened my mouth, stunned when I realized I didn’t know the answer to that. “I’m not sure,” I spoke honestly. “Strange. Both encounters were just...different, but probably held the same intensity. Does that make sense?”

“Sort of,” he murmured, “not really.”

“You know,” I spoke over him, frowning in thought. “Now that you mention Incubus shirt girl, the two of them did have a lot of similarities. Same basic figure, long dark hair, that certain Latino look. Too bad I never got a good up-close glimpse of Incubus shirt girl’s face.”

Remy slapped his hand on the top of the table as if an idea had just struck. “Maybe they’re the same girl.”