"Yeah, and maybeLexiethought the coat was mine. You ever think of that?"
"I don't care about the coat." His voice softened. "I care about us."
"Oh, andIdon't?"
"I don't know. Do you?"
"Of course."
"So why all the secrecy?"
"I already told you why."
His mouth tightened. "Right."
I felt totally blindsided. "If you were so unhappy, you should've said so."
Drake snorted. "Who says I'm unhappy?"
"Well you'reactingunhappy."
"Compared to you?" Drake laughed. "Nah, I don't think so."
"Well of course I'm unhappy," I snapped. "We're making a giant spectacle of ourselves."
He shrugged. "So stop yelling."
"I'm not yelling!"
Just then, a porch light two houses away flicked on and off several times as if the home owners were sending a message. Back home, I'd seen plenty of similar messages thanks to my mom and her front-yard theatrics.
Growing up, there was one thing I had always known for certain. I would never,everstar in a huge public spectacle.
I wouldn't toss drinks in restaurants or date guys who lied for a living. I wouldn't stage breakups on the front lawn or wear undergarments outside. I wouldn't cause the neighbors to whisper and stare or occasionally call the police. And I most certainly wouldn't be yelling in the street in the middle of the night.
And yet, here I was.
In my bathrobe.
Just like my mom.
Okay, she wasn'talwayswearing her bathrobe when things turned ugly. Sometimes she was wearing a sexy nightie or yesterday's party dress. But the point remained.
With an effort, I reined myself in just in time for Drake to say with the hint of a smile, "It sounded like yelling tome."
I saw nothing to smile about it. In a low hiss, I replied, "I'm glad you're so amused."
"Yeah, andI'mglad you're ticked off, because we've been sneaking around long enough."
Oh, I was ticked, alright. But I wasn't ticked at Lexie – or even Harper – in spite of how difficult she could be.
I was ticked at Drake for starting this snowball of a spectacle rolling straight into the gutter. And I was just about tell him so when the sounds of barking made me look toward the house.
In the front window, I saw six felines and one dog – Cash, of course, who was yipping like crazy through the glass. I gave a confused shake of my head. "Wait, wasn't he in the bedroom?"
"Not anymore," Drake said, sounding annoyingly pleased.
Iwasn't. I whirled to face him. "Oh, so you let him out?"
