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The three of them don’t say anything, merely watch me patiently.

Like they’re waiting for me to continue.

I have no idea what they expect me to say.

“What?” I ask after a beat. “What the fuck are you fuckers doing?”

“Just trying to ascertain how long it’s going to take you to get your head out of your ass,” Atlas says, shrugging.

“It’s obvious you like her,” Royal says.

“And she likes you,” Banks adds.

“We’re friends,” I say through gritted teeth. “And yes, of course I like her. What’s not to like? She’s obviously grateful that I’m helping her and?—”

“Come on, man.” Royal shakes his head impatiently. “What kind of bullshit are you spouting right now? If anyone recognizes that shit, it’s me. I was spouting the same type of crap, trying to pretend I wasn’t in love with Jade. I mean, why would she want a grumpy old sourpuss like me?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” I mutter.

“Shut up and listen.” Royal points a finger at me. “Of all of us, you’re the most closed off.” He glances at Atlas. “Control freak boy over there is a close second, but at least he likes sex. You… you’re like a monk in a cape.”

Banks snorts, trying to hold back laughter, and Atlas is muttering something about not being controlling.

“Just because I don’t flaunt it doesn’t mean I don’t have sex,” I protest. “Not everyone is ready for the white picket fence.”

“So you’re going to sit there with a straight face and tell us if Willow flat-out said she was interested, you’d turn her down?”

Christ on a fucking cracker.

Why do they have to bust my balls like this?

I love them but sometimes they’re a pain in my ass.

Well, a lot of the time.

“Look, it’s not black and white like that.”

“Then explain it.” Royal looks annoyed and I don’t know why.

I don’t reply.

Not to worry, though, these fuckers have plenty to say.

“You spent a lot of time mourning Colt.” Banks holds my gaze. “So you weren’t in a good place emotionally. Then we were busy helping Briar with Frankie, which was a different kind of emotional crisis. Then you were completely immersed in getting your business off the ground, so you didn’t have time. You also threw yourself into building the Sapphire Room, but at this point, I think you’re out of excuses. I know I was.”

“I don’t have excuses. She’s amazing. I just—” I cut off abruptly as Willow comes outside carrying a small tray with what’s probably dessert.

Saved by the bell.

“Who’s ready for something sweet?” she asks.

I have so many answers to that question, but none of them are appropriate.

She puts the tray down on the table and sinks into the spot next to me.

Right next to me.

So that her thigh is touching mine.