Page 67

“I invited her to stay at mine,” I admit, finding a speck of lint on the tablecloth and brushing it off.

I look up to find my friends staring at me, jaws slack.

“What?” I ask as if this is nothing special.

“You say,what? As if this is no big deal,” Quentin says, when he finally recovers. “The man who has never taken a partner back to his apartment. Claims it’shisspace,hissanctuary. Now tells us he has invited a completestrangerinto his home tostaywith him.”

“Unless she’s not a stranger,” Tristan chips in.

He shoots me a look that makes me wonder how much of my heart I spilled on Sunday night.

I look around the table to find my friends staring at me eyebrows raised.

I shrug. “She’s down on her luck. What else was I supposed to do?”

“A hotel, one of your empty apartments?” Xander says. I grind my teeth. “There it is,” he says pointing at my ticking jaw. “There is definitely more to this.” He crosses his arms and stares at me. “I want to know why our best friend appears to be holding out on us.”

April is the first woman I have never discussed with my friends. For some reason when I came back from New York it felt wrong. I didn’t want to cheapen it. And the fact she disappeared.

In unison they sit back and cross their arms over their chests. If I didn’t feel backed into a corner, it would be amusing.

“Fine,” I huff. “I met April in New York.”

“Ha,” Marcus says, holding his palms out to the others.

“What the hell?” I mutter.

“Sorry man, I win,” he says, as the others hand over a wad of cash.

“Win?”

“I told them you met someone special in New York,” Marcus explains. “They didn’t believe me.”

I suck in a breath.

Is April special?

Hell, I know she’s special. She’s the first woman I have ever wanted to wake up next to, share a leisurely breakfast with. Instead, when I opened my eyes, she was gone.

When I don’t say anything, my friends remain silent.

“She needs my help,” I say quietly.

“Good for you,” Tristan says, and once again, I wonder how much I spilled on Sunday. My friends shift in their seats.

I hear music and look up to find Quentin on his phone. I recognise the tune instantly and the background noise and groan.

“Really,” I say, shooting my friendthatlook.

He simply shrugs as Xander and Tristan look over his shoulder. I know they’re watching April as she dances outside my office.

“Wow, man, she’s hot,” Xander says. “And she can dance!”

It’s Marcus who smacks him on the back of the head.

I don’t like the look on my friend’s face, it’s too… interested.

What the hell?