When he started to get up, she waved for him to stay put. “I’ll eat in a bit, and don’t worry, I’ll feed myself. I feel bad making you wait on me.”
“Like I said, you’ve got a free pass. My brother was a total dick to you today.”
Stretching her legs out, Claire stared at her red-polished toes and wiggled them around. “Hey,” she said absently, “I’m not seeing double anymore. I have ten toes again.”
She shifted her head and met Dylan’s eyes. He had the most gorgeous eyes, she decided. They were the palest shade of green she’d ever seen, so vivid they looked photoshopped. Chris’s eyes were also green, but darker, and definitely not as pretty.
“You think your brother was right to end it, huh?” she said slowly. “You don’t think it would have worked out between us.”
Dylan went quiet for a moment. “Yes,” he finally replied. “I don’t think it would’ve worked.”
“You might be right about that.” Claire paused, reluctant, then went on. “My friend Natasha said the same thing. She thinks that deep down, I knew it too.”
“Did you?” Dylan asked roughly.
She hesitated again. “Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, I’m upset, but…not as upset as I thought I’d be.”
Before he could question the response, she staggered to her feet and turned to Aidan. “I think I want that sandwich now. Do you mind if I rummage around in your kitchen?”
“Poor girl,” Aidan murmured as the two men watched Claire’s face disappear behind the refrigerator door. “I still can’t believe Chris recruited you to cancel his wedding.”
Dylan frowned. “It definitely wasn’t his finest moment.”
“It was a dick move.”
There was no arguing that. Hell, even Dylan’s mother agreed that Chris had done a seriously crappy thing today. When Dylan had called her earlier to apologize, Shanna had still been horrified by her eldest son’s behavior, but fortunately, she hadn’t been angry at her youngest for taking off too. She insisted Dylan had done the right thing by getting Claire out of town—apparently everyone they knew was whispering about the wedding and stirring up a gossip storm of massive proportions.
A loud thump sounded from the kitchen, followed by a cheerful yell from Claire. “No worries! Just dropped the mayo container. It’s plastic so it didn’t break!”
The glum tone she’d used only moments ago was gone, the delight in her voice unmistakable.
Dylan tried very hard not to grin. He had to admit, drunk Claire was a lot more fun than sober Claire.
Next to him, Aidan didn’t bother hiding his grin, which ignited the cycle of irritation all over again.
Aidan was attracted to Claire.
Dylan could see it plain as day, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. It had nothing to do with jealousy, either. He and Aidan brought women home all the time, so watching his roommate fuck someone else wasn’t anything new or scandalous.
No, it was Aidan’s attraction to this woman that bugged him. He didn’t want Claire fooling Aidan the way she’d fooled Chris, making him believe she was someone special, someone sweet and wonderful, when in reality she was a materialistic snob who liked to belittle women who weren’t as career-oriented as she was.
Chillax, buddy.
Realizing his chest had tightened with resentment, he inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself, then glanced over at his roommate.
Okay, enough with the roommate bullshit, he told himself.
His lover.
Aidan Rhodes was his lover.
The memory of Aidan’s lips stretched wide around his cock sent a bolt of lust straight to Dylan’s groin. Christ, he really had needed that. He’d left for San Francisco yesterday morning and was back in San Diego less than forty-eight hours later, but he felt like he’d been gone for months. Sitting through that rehearsal dinner last night, getting all gussied up this morning, informing the bride her groom was gone…shit like that took its toll on a man.
Needless to say, he was happy to be home, and to him, home was San Diego. He may have been born and raised in Marin County, but he’d always felt so out of place there. The people in his neighborhood were uber-conservative, the kids from his high school preppy as hell, and that kind of stifling, judgmental environment was definitely not ideal for a guy who loved cock as much as he loved pussy.
“Aw, he’s still mad at me.”
Claire’s voice jerked Dylan out of a train of thought that had been going nowhere fast.
“I’m not mad,” he muttered. “I’m mostly annoyed, and kinda tired. It’s been a long day.”
“No kidding.” She flopped down in the recliner and balanced her plate on her thighs, then picked up her sandwich and took a big bite.