You bet.
But I sure as hell won’t confess to these two.
Luckily, by the time Loki is done, our waitress shows up with our drinks and appetizer. Roark eyes me suspiciously while Tessa places everything on the table. Once we’ve thanked her, my brother attacks.
“I thought you were going to pacify things with Dom? Sounds like you’ve made them worse,” he reprimands.
“Cheers!” I say in response, as I lift my glass. Both Loki and Roark are thrown off, but follow my lead.
“Cheers!” they say before we clink our glasses.
We all take a long sip of our drinks.
Wow.
The vodka is cold, clean, crisp and smooth as silk. Dare I say, perfect.
Damn those Russians!
Maybe Loki’s idea isn’t so bad after all.
“Here’s to afunevening out with the boys!”
“Sarcasm won’t get you out of this,” Roark says dropping his glass on the table.
“What do you expect me to do? The two of you are ganging up on me,” I complain.
“Let me help you,” Roark retorts. “Why don’t you and Dom talk it out once and for all?”
“It would surely make life a hell of a lot easier for everyone around you,” Loki jumps in.
I don’t respond.
“You can sit there and stare at us as much as you want, but we aren’t going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this,” Loki warns.
I let out a long sigh and rake my fingers through my hair in frustration.
How much do I tell them?
“Rod,” my brother presses.
“We did talk it out,” I confess.
“Obviously, it didn’t go very well,” Roark says.
“I beg to differ. It wentreallywell.”
“Huh?” Roark grimaces.
“Your definition of really well differs greatly from mine,” Loki says.
I lean into the table. “Things got…”
“We’re listening,” Roark says, mimicking me.
“Intimate.”
Both men frown.
