“She convinced me to ditch the party, got me wasted, and then when I made an attempt to kiss her, she pulled that annoying turning-her-head-and-giving-me-her-cheek bullshit.” Colby’s dark eyes clouded over. “Then she jumped into a cab and left. The bar was only a few blocks from here, so I figured I’d sleep it off in the office.” He rubbed his temples again. “The state I was in? I couldn’t remember my own name, let alone my address to tell to a cabbie.”
Hmmm. The plot thickened. Suz had refused to kiss Colby? And then ditched him? That was totally unlike her, especially since Dean knew for a fact she was attracted to the guy. She waxed poetic about Colby’s “lick-worthy muscles” every time Dean saw her.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I got ditched, too,” he admitted.
“No shit?” Colby brightened. “That does make me feel better. The lady-killer himself got shot down? What’s the date? I want to mark it down on the calendar.”
“Funny.”
Colby heaved his broad body off the couch and made a beeline for the mini-fridge. He ditched his Captain America gloves, grabbed a bottle of Evian from the fridge and twisted off the cap, then downed the whole bottle before reaching for a second one.
As Colby rehydrated, Dean pulled out his cell phone and checked the screen, but Suz hadn’t gotten back to him yet. Where the hell was she? He needed the name of her friend, damn it. In recent years, a parade of women moved in and out of his life, and normally he never looked back after a hookup. This time, he couldn’t stop looking forward. He wanted to see his goddess again. He wanted to kiss her and fuck her and learn everything about her.
Maybe not even in that order, which was even freakier.
He’d come to the office in the hopes that Pepper might be there, or maybe Parker and Lynn. Lynn was Suz’s best friend, and if anyone had detailed knowledge about Suz’s friend roster, it would be her. But he’d completely forgotten it was Saturday, which meant Pepper and Lynn were probably tangled up in bed with Dean’s business partners, unlikely to come up for air until Monday.
“So who did you strike out with?” Colby asked curiously. “Was it Pepper’s friend from the gym? Jessica? Jamie? Can’t remember her name, but holy hell, she was hotter than—”
They both froze when a blur of motion came from the door, and Dean found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The woman in the doorway lowered her weapon, her dark eyes flickering with humor. “I should’ve known your drunk asses would crash in the office.”
Holstering her nine-mil, Gillian strode into the room, her gaze darting from Dean to Colby.
Dean had to give her credit. He hadn’t heard her come in, though that was probably because the woman moved like a ghost. Before joining DreamMakers, Gillian had been the sniper for a covert military unit that had a reputation for kicking ass and taking names. When she’d first started working for them, she’d been serious and overly professional, but in the last couple of months, she’d begun to lower her guard, her fiery nature and whip-sharp humor making welcome appearances.
“Hey, he’s the only drunk in the room,” Dean said, hooking a thumb at Colby. “I came in because I thought it was a regular old workday.”
She smirked. “So you forgot it was Saturday? That’s not helping your I-didn’t-get-sloshed-out-of-my-mind-last-night cause.”
He slid off the desk. “I’m sober as a judge, baby.”
“It’s true,” Colby confirmed. “He left the party early so he could go home and cry himself to sleep.”
Gillian broke out in a grin. “Aw, did the haunted house scare you? You poor thing. You should have come to get me—I would have held your hand.”
He was about to make a cocky comment about how she was the weaker sex and was therefore the one who required hand-holding, but truth was, Gillian was a million times tougher than any man he’d ever known, and if the woman ever found herself in a house full of ghosts and ghouls, she’d probably shoot her way out of it.
Instead, he flipped up his middle finger, then flashed her a wink. “If I had my way, you would’ve held more than my hand.”
“Ha. In your dreams.”
“God, you don’t know how true that is,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “I dream about you every night, Hot Shot. In explicit detail.”
“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled, as she always did when he used the nickname. Then she turned to Colby with a chuckle. “I want to know why Dean was crying.”
“I wasn’t crying,” he objected.
“He got ditched,” Colby informed her. “I haven’t pried the details out of him yet, but I think it was a Cinderella type of deal. You know, our man Dean dances the night away with a sweet li’l thang, he’s about to profess his undying love, and then she disappears into the night, leaving nothing but a sparkly silver shoe behind.”
Ironically? Colby wasn’t that far from the truth. Well, minus the shoe, and adding a tongue-tangling kiss.
“Wait—so in this scenario, Dean is Prince Charming?” Gillian snorted so loudly Dean’s ego took a hit.
He rolled his eyes, then adopted a casual tone as he said, “That’s not what happened. But just out of curiosity, do either of you know who Suz’s friend was?”