“I’m fine,” I said, reaching for a handful of nuts. Everyone had brought food, and my table was overflowing with an assortment of appetizers and desserts.
Gabi scowled. “Bullshit.”
Gabi was like the sister I’d never had, Thatcher like the brother, and the other women like close cousins. All of them were here for me, but still I couldn’t open up.
Sloane looked at me, and I gave an imperceptible shake of my head. I didn’t want to talk about it, especially after seeing Xan at the park.
Thatcher put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze.
“We are here for you,” he said. “Whether it’s a big emergency or just the need for pizza, beer, and conversation—we have your back.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I blurted the first thing on my mind. The thing that hadn’t left my mind since it happened. “I kissed him,” I said.
There was a collective intake of breath.
“We already knew that,” Gabi said.
“I’m not talking about Xan,” I said. “I’m talking about Beckett.”
“I’m not surprised,” Sloane said. “Watch out for him though.”
“Beckett’s all right,” Thatcher said.
All eyes turned to him. Everyone except Kennedy knew something about Thatcher that we hadn’t known last week.
“What?” He scrubbed a hand over his dark beard scruff.
“Nothing,” Sloane said, smirking.
Kennedy looked at us all as if we’d lost our minds. “Can somebody please clue me in?”
Sloane popped a few nuts in her mouth and raised an eyebrow at me for permission as she chewed. I nodded, and she summed up the evening for everyone. “Somebody slipped Lacey a roofie,” she said. “Mr. Vinroot swooped in to save her. Punched a guy out, then carried Lacey off.” She munched another mouthful of nuts. “I have a video.”
“We are not watching the video,” I squeaked. “You’d better delete it now.”
Mia and Kennedy wore similar expressions of shock. Thatcher’s fingers tightened on my shoulder.
“Do I need to kill someone for you?” he asked.
Thatcher was Army. He knew how to use deadly force.
“No. Apparently Beckett handled it.”
“He was always a good kid,” he said. “Glad to know he turned out all right.”
“He’s scary,” Sloane said. “Intimidating as hell. The one time I met him, he sat at the head of the table with this look on his face—” Sloane adjusted her face in a damn good impression of Beckett’s icy expression, and I giggled.
“He’s not that bad,” I said. “He’s actually sweet.” I thought of him carrying me from the bathroom to his bed and staying with me to hold my hand.
“He did look pretty gallant in the video,” Gabi said.
“He likes limericks,” I said. “And he let me borrow his dog when I didn’t want to be alone.”
They were already all staring at me, but that admission made their eyes widen.
“What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious as I reached for my beer.
“You love being alone,” Thatcher said.
