"Good?" She looked at me as if I was on crack. "He did amazing. If there were ever a symbol to show how much he loved me and wanted to be with me for the rest of his life, this is it. This is sooo that symbol."
She kept gushing until we were almost to the club where the ringing of her phone interrupted her. My stomach tightened with worry that it would be Mason, calling us off because Pick had already gotten a shirt from someone else. I wanted to be the one to provide for him and take care of him.
Hmm, those must be the pregnancy hormones channeling some kind of motherly instinct through me, because I'd certainly never wanted to cater to any guy before, for any reason. Strange.
I could tell it was Mason's mom on the phone from listening in on Reese's side of the conversation. "Okay. Change of plans," she told me as she hung up the call and tossed her phone into the center console. "Sarah has a fever, so Dawn needs me to run by the drug store and pick up a prescription for her."
Mason's mom, Dawn, usually freaked out whenever her daughter, Sarah, suffered from any little issue since she had cerebral palsy. More than once a week, either Reese or Mason had to charge over there to help them out. I know I had no place to talk since I was currently sponging off Mason and Reese myself for . . . well, everything, but to me, it really felt like Dawn relied on her son way too much. It was no wonder he'd felt pressured into selling his body to his evil landlady, or as Reese was currently calling her: the Wicked Bitch of Florida.
"But what about Pic—" I started before Reese held up her hand.
"We're only a block from the club. I'll just drop you off at the front door, head to the drug store, pop over to Dawn and Sarah's, and then come back to pick you up on my way home."
She'd have to do a lot of driving out of her way to come back for me, but I knew she always felt a sense of urgency whenever Mason's mom needed something from her. So I kept silent.
"Okay." Tucking Pick's shirt into my purse, I bobbed my head as she slowed to a stop at the curb.
"And remember." Reese sent me a wink and a grin. "It's totally okay if you want to rip all those clothes off that tattooed piece of man candy and just . . . lick him. You're pregnant. Your hormones are all out of control. It's not your fault."
I rolled my eyes, my pregnant hormones stirring at the visual my best friend had just painted in my head. "Thanks so much for your permission." Opening the door, I added, "But listening to my hormones is kind of how I got into this situation in the first place. So, I think I'll pass."
"But Mason actually likes this guy. He says Pick is his favorite coworker . . . not only because he's a hell of a worker, but because of the way he treats women. I guess the man knows how to make each and every one of them feel special."
Staring at her, I tried to ignore the disappointment that bit me in the ass. So he treated all women well, huh? I knew that was supposed to be a good thing. I mean, it was a good thing. But it also meant he hadn't singled me out. I hadn't been special at all, just another nameless, faceless female he felt the urge to pamper.
Shaking my head, I told myself it didn't matter. I was staying away from all men, anyway. Focusing on nothing but babies over here.
But inside, it still hurt. I'd probably meant nothing at all to a guy I hadn't been able to stop thinking about for two weeks straight.
With a shake of my head, I shook off my disappointment and blew Reese a kiss. "Bye, sweetie. Give Sarah this kiss for me, 'kay?"
"Okay."
As Reese pulled away, I turned and looked up at the bright neon lights of the Forbidden Nightclub. They had ten more minutes until opening, so I hurried forward and knocked on the glass of the front door until the guy who's name I'd never learned appeared on the other side, peering out at me.
I pulled Mason's shirt out of my purse and waved it like some kind of peace offering until he unlocked the door and opened it.
"Hi," I said, sending him an uncertain smile. "You're Gamble, right?"
"Quinn," he corrected.
Score. Got his name. "Quinn," I repeated. "Right. Hey, I don't know if you remember me. I'm Mason's cousin, Eva." I would be soon, that was. "I'm here to deliver a shirt."
"For Pick?" he asked, opening the door wide for me.
"Yep." I stepped inside, holding my breath for that first moment I'd get to see him again. "For Pick."
But I didn't spot Pick anywhere. Aside from Quinn, only Mason and Ten filled the large, quiet club. I started for Mason, who was doing something behind the bar with his back to me.
"One black T-shirt," I announced, making him jump and whirl around. "Freshly cleaned and folded."
When I lifted it, he scowled at the article of clothing before glancing behind me. "Where's Reese?"