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“I know it’s a lot of money,” I started, “but you know I’m good for it—”
“It’s for June. What account do you want me to transfer it to?”
I breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled, feeling a hell of a lot lighter. “You can’t transfer it, remember? Man, you’re so excited to get your dick sucked again, your brain went out.”
King grunted.
“Cleo’s got to be watching like a hawk,” I said, stretching my legs out. “One toe out of line and—”
“The rental company doesn’t have it where you’re at.”
“What?” I leaned up in my chair. “What do you mean? Where do they have it?”
“Oklahoma City.”
I swore under my breath. “Now I’ve got to get a long-ass taxi…that’s the rest of my cash. Fuck. And I have to get up at the crack of dawn to do this and it’s already—fuck me—it’s almost four o’clock.”
There was a creak on the other side, and King hesitated. “What am I supposed to tell June?”
Neither of us said anything.
When we signed on for the Romans, there wasn’t a guidebook on what you do when fake relationships get messy. That’s why no matter how many times Cleo had suggested it for me, and I heard all the speeches, about how it would clean up my image and put a stop to the Marrs Manwhore nickname once and for all, I never bothered. Even with the NDAs and the contracts and the promises, that was still a real person. And shit happens with real people.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
June wasn’t just June Basil, politician’s daughter, homecoming queen, or whatever other title that they tacked on her. She was also—June. Our buddy. I didn’t know what was supposed to happen next.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Well, it’ll be good to have you both back.”
I tried to grin, even if I didn’t feel like it. “Miss us?”
“People keep trying to make me do things, and you and June aren’t here to put a stop to that.”
“You’ve got to learn to stop being such a pussy and say no for a change.”
King breezed right past that. “How’s the girl?”
Piper was back in our room, fast asleep by now. I could picture her blonde hair, all fluffy on the pillow, and the pajamas, probably some kind of sea animal theme.
My thoughts drifted to her smooth thighs and her lips. I wanted to kiss her in that shower. I really wanted to kiss her.
“Uh…fine,” I muttered.
“You’re not getting into any trouble, are you?”
What? Like smashing a Clemenza?
“No more than usual,” I answered.
He grunted, unsatisfied. Out of everyone, that’s what King was best at. We all joked around about how he refused to talk, but the truth was, the man was constantly listening and siphoning through the bullshit. It was probably my least favorite and favorite thing about my teammate.
“June’s calling me, I’ll talk tomorrow,” King said.
“Talk to you tomorrow, man.”
The phone call clicked and it was a good thing he had to go. I had to get to bed for the small time frame I was allocated for. I stretched again, feeling things pop that probably didn’t need to, and pushed myself from the couch. My alarm was set. One hour and seven minutes left before my early taxi ride.
Great.
