“Because I don’t get hangovers, no matter how much I drink.”
“Congratulations,” she said sarcastically. “Your body is seventy percent booze. Not seventy percent water.” She drank more of her coffee, the steam rising above her face and drifting to the ceiling.
“Seemed like you guys had fun.”
“Oh, we did. Just can’t totally remember how much fun we had…”
“How was the vodka I gave you?”
“Don’t remember that either.”
“Then it’s a good thing the bottle actually had water in it.”
She chuckled before she took another drink. “Geez, I was stupid drunk.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“When I woke up, Anna was still passed out. I think she drank more than I did.”
And I couldn’t even take advantage of her. “Sounds like you two have become good friends.”
“Definitely.” Her painted nails rested against the white mug, and she gently tapped the ceramic surface before she lifted her gaze to look at me. “So, what’s the story with you and her?”
“She didn’t tell you?” Isn’t that what women did? Shared every little detail?
“She told me she was recently divorced and she shouldn’t have married him in the first place. She’s staying with you now for protection. But she didn’t say much about you, specifically. I thought I would just ask you.”
“I don’t ask about your boyfriends.”
“So, she’s your girlfriend, then?” she asked, a victorious look on her face.
I’d walked right into that, hadn’t I? “She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t like that term.”
“Then what is she?”
I shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Why does she sleep in a different room?”
Catalina wasn’t going to let this go until she dragged everything out. I would ignore her interrogation, but if they were going to be friends, it was bound to come up anyway. “She just got divorced. She doesn’t want to rush into anything.”
“But you two are kinda together?”
I gave a nod.
“Ooh…my brother is in love.”
“I never said I was.”
“My manwhore brother is trying to get with a divorced woman. I don’t see why you would be patient for someone unless she was important to you. And if she’s important to you…then there must be something there.” She reached for the packets of sugar and added them to the black coffee, her eyebrows high in an obnoxious, know-it-all way.
“We were together before she got married.”
“Ooh…now that she’s available, you want her again.”
I’d wanted her long before she was available. “You’re nosy.”
“This is the first time my brother has ever been seen with a woman. It’s a big fucking deal. You’ve got a girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I repeated.
“Are you seeing anyone else?”
My response was a cold look.
“Then she’s your girlfriend,” she said simply. “You don’t want a put a label on it? Fine. But that’s what she is.” She added more sugar and stirred the mug. Her tanned skin had a distinct glow in the sunlight, becoming more bronzed right before my eyes. “She’s a really sweet girl, so you picked well.”
“You’re fine with the fact that she’s been divorced? Aren’t you supposed to be protective? Judgmental?”
Both of her eyebrows rose high. “Uh, no.” She placed her hand across her chest. “I’m the least judgmental person on the planet. You’re the judgmental one. I don’t care that she’s been married. The guy was a dick who cheated on her. It wasn’t her fault. And from what I’ve seen of her with my own eyes, she’s a lovely person. She’s kind, compassionate, funny…hot. What else are you looking for?”
I hadn’t expected my family to accept her so easily, not because they were cold, but because I’d never done this before. I’d never introduced a woman to my sister or my father. And if Catalina brought a man around, I’d probably be the protective and judgmental one. I projected my own behavior onto her. “Stop saying she’s hot.”
“I’ve said it once.”
“No, you said it last night too.”
“What?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t think someone of the same sex is hot?”
“Not when it’s my girlfriend—”
“Ha!” She slammed both palms onto the table. “Told you.”
I issued a quiet growl as I rolled my eyes.
Hades stepped into my office and set a stack of folders on the corner of my desk. He said a few things about clients and other projects as he slid his hands into his pockets. Then he addressed the real issue that was on his mind. “Haven’t heard from him?”
“Not yet.” I waited for Liam to pop out of a box like a demonic toy clown. “But I told Annabella that if it came down to his life or mine, it’s gonna be his.”
“And her response?”
“She accepted it.”
“That’s progress.” He lowered himself into the chair, wearing a dark blue suit with a matching tie. His muscular arms rested along the sides of the chair, and he placed one ankle on the opposite knee, stretching out like he was lounging on the beach. “Getting laid?”
I gave him a scowl. “Did you really just ask that?”
“What’s wrong with the question?”
“What if I asked about Sofia?”
“She’s my wife. It’s different. And I didn’t ask for details. Just asked if you’re getting laid.” He adjusted the sleeves of his collared shirt under his jacket, so the collar stuck out just a little bit. “And judging from that pissed expression on your face, the answer is no.”
It was a big fucking no. “I’m not gonna rush her.”
“Yeah, I know how that is. You just have to wait for her to make the first move.”
I didn’t want to wait long to be with the woman I loved. I fantasized about her when I was awake, and when that wasn’t enough, I dreamed about her. The chemistry we had was explosive compared to what she had with Liam, and in my eyes, she’d always been mine…even when she was married to him. He was just an obstacle standing in our way. Now that he wasn’t there, we could finally break free of our restraints and be what we wanted.
But he was still in the way.
It would take time, and I just had to wait.
Hades could read the frustration in my eyes. “It’ll be worth the wait, man. I promise.”
After my workout and dinner, I sat on the couch with the TV in the background. My mind drifted to a lot of other things, from the bank to the streets, to the woman down the hall from me. Sometimes the scotch was strong enough to dull my thoughts, to get my brain to sleep while I was still awake. With the glass in my hand, I stared at the TV, not really paying attention to what I was looking at.
Then the door opened—and Annabella stepped inside.
There wasn’t a drop of makeup on her face, and judging from her messy hair, she’d been nursing her hangover all day. She may have just woken up a few minutes ago. She was in a tiny pair of silk shorts and a t-shirt without a bra.