Chapter 3
ISAK
What the hell was I doing? Why hadn't I said something when Gabrielle introduced me to her?
Because I was a dumb ass. And I was going to continue being one because now it was too late. I'd fucked it up and no matter what I did, Clover was going to think I was... well, a dumb ass. Which I was.
Fox was in the kitchen doing his seven-step Korean skincare routine when I got home, which meant I had to act casual because he'd call me on even the slightest weirdness in a second. That's what happened when you lived and worked and partied and gamed with your brother from another mother.
I was great at pretending everything was fine. Yep. Nailing it. Very casual. Totally normal evening. Nothing had happened today.
"You're being weird. What happened?"
Shit. "I'm not weird, you're weird."
"You've been all quiet and up in your head since this afternoon. It was the meeting with Gabrielle, I know it was. She isn't going to trade us or something, is she?"
He didn't look up from whatever he was patting into his cheekbones.
"Wait, is she just trading you? For being a weird feral raccoon at the press conference? Because we all know she's never trading her movie star running back. It’s because of the press conference last week, isn’t it?
You really need to study up on your media training, my guy. "
"The press conference was fine."
"Isak. You called yourself a shenanigan enthusiast and waggled your eyebrows at the camera like you wanted to lick it until it said it's safeword."
"I have a reputation to maintain."
Fox finally looked up. He had that face on, the one that looked like friendly interest and was actually a very sophisticated scanning system. Two years of living together had not made me immune to that face. I kept moving toward the fridge.
"The Gabster already sprung her takeover and a new coach on us. Don't tell me she's got more surprises up her sleeve." he said. "What did happen at the meeting?"
"Nothing happened at the meeting. It was just the blah-blah we hope you're happy here, what can we do to keep you happy kind of crap from Whyte. I honestly think Gabrielle was scoping him out more than me."
"Then what? Because you were off your game all afternoon. You're always laser focused on the first day of camp." The sound of him capping something reverberated off the marble countertop. And I pretended he wasn't staring at me and trying to worm his way into my brain.
The blender started without warning, because Fox believed the only time to make a smoothie was immediately and without announcing it. "Roper noticed."
"He had a shit ton going on today. I doubt he noticed me at all."
"Isak. You're the QB, dude. Everyone notices everything you do."
I rolled my eyes and closed the fridge with nothing in my hand because I'd opened it without actually wanting anything. Which Fox had also definitely noticed. He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and an expression of unlimited patience and absolutely nowhere to be.
He didn't say anything.
Fox was terrifyingly good at not saying anything.
I lasted forty-five seconds. "There's a girl. A woman."
He grinned and jumped up on the counter, planting his ass next to the blender and poured his smoothie. "Spill."
I was kind of relieved to be able to talk some of this out. Clearly I had no idea what the hell I was doing.
"Yesterday, Vito and I were out on the bike." I leaned against the opposite counter and looked at the ceiling. "She’d gotten stuck in a tree."
He nodded and took a sip of his pink goo. "As one does."
"Her cat got out. She went up after him. Branch went through her shirt, pinned her to the trunk. She couldn't get down."
"And you—" He was grinning from ear to ear.
"Got the cat and helped her down."
Fox looked at me for a long moment. "Like a fireman? Wait, wait. Tell me you took the helmet off. Oh my god. You didn't."
He knew me too well. It was genuinely inconvenient. "I was on the bike."
"Isak."
I said nothing.
Fox nodded slowly, the way he did when he was filing information into a theory he was already building. Also, trying to hold in what I could tell was a barely contained giggle of glee at my ridiculousness. "Ahem, and where did this all take place?"
"That's the thing."
"There's a thing." He was genuinely giddy.
"It was that tree." I nodded toward the west window. "She lives in the building."
Fox straightened up very slowly from the counter, his eyes and his smile getting bigger by the second. "She's in our building."
"She said she moved in a week ago. I checked with the management company this morning." I paused. "She's in 4C."
Fox stared at me, shaking his head, and pressing his lips together. I gotta give it to him. He tried.
Then he started laughing. Not the polite kind. The full Fox Daws laugh, the one that his publicist had once described in a profile as his most devastating weapon, which... fair, but also extremely unhelpful right now.
"She lives," he said, when he could, "in your building."
"Yes."
"That you own."
Sigh. "Under an LLC, yes."
"And she doesn't know."
"Nobody knows. That's the point of the LLC."
"Right, right, right." He was still laughing, wiping at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. "So she doesn't know you're Isak Kingman, she doesn't know you own the building she lives in, and you asked her out? With the helmet on."
I dropped my chin to my chest and waved a hand in defeat. "This is the way."
"Did she say yes?"
"No."
"Ouch. Dude."
"But she took my number and saved it as—" God dammit. He was going to tease the fuck out of me.
"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me."
I might as well because there would be no end to this if I didn't. "Cat Daddy."
Fox lost it again.
I waited. There was nothing else to do when Fox got like this except wait. Vito wandered in from wherever he'd been sleeping, assessed the situation, and sat on my foot. Solidarity, man.
"Okay." Fox pulled himself together with visible effort. "Okay. What's her name?"
"None of your business."
He stared at me. "You don't know her name?"
"I know her name."
"Then—"
"Fox."
He held up both hands. The expression on his face was the one that meant he was filing this away for later and I was going to regret not telling him now. Fine. Later was a problem for later-Isak.
My phone buzzed.
We both looked at it on the counter between us.
Unknown number.
I picked it up before Fox could see the screen.
Unknown Number: Say "knock knock"
I stared at it.
Please be her. No, god, please don't be her. Please be her. Fuck.
Fox was watching my face. I could feel him watching. I turned slightly away and typed.
Me: Knock knock
Unknown Number: Who's there (hint: the answer should rhyme with Scat Schmaddy)
A happy little tingle in my brain flickered its way through me. I was not going to name or examine that while Fox was sitting two feet away with his arms crossed and his scanning system running at full capacity.
Me: Cat Daddy
I went into contacts. Typed the name fast, thumb moving before I'd consciously decided what to put.
Cheerleader in a Tree.
Not her name. Not anything Fox could run with if he saw the screen. Just a description. Plausible deniability.
Cheerleader in a Tree: Cat Daddy who? (this is the part where you tell me your actual name)
Me: Good try. My lips are sealed.
Cheerleader in a Tree: Your lips don't have to do a thing. Let your fingers do the work.
I put the phone face down on the counter.
Picked it back up.
Put it down again.
Was she flirting with me? That was flirting. That was absolutely flirting. The knock knock setup was cute and the Scat Schmaddy was funny and then she said let your fingers do the work and I was — I needed a second.
"You good?" Fox said.
"Fine."
"You put your phone down twice."
"I'm allowed to put my phone down."
"It's her, isn't it? Lemme see."
I snagged the phone up before he could.
Me: That was either very innocent or very not and I genuinely cannot tell which
Cheerleader in a Tree: I'm a woman of mystery
Me: I'm a man in a helmet. We could start a club.
Cheerleader in a Tree: What are the other membership requirements?
Me: Must own at least one cat with an excellent name
Me: Vito says he’d like a full report on Tig. Comprehensive. Personality assessment, favorite sleeping positions, feelings on pigeons.
Cheerleader in a Tree: Is your cat trying to get my cat's number??
Me: He's either networking or flirting. He takes this very seriously.
Cheerleader in a Tree: Tell him Tig is selective about his contacts, but is very interested.
Me: Vito says that's fair. He respects a cat with standards.
Cheerleader in a Tree: They have so much in common.
I was smiling. I could feel myself smiling and I couldn't do anything about it and Fox was still sitting there staring at me with a goofy smile on his face.
"Cheerleader in a Tree?" Fox asked.
I looked up. He was reading everything. Upside down. Of course he was. Nosy bastard.
"Fox."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You're reading my texts."
He picked up his smoothie. "Cheerleader in a Tree is a very, let’s say, creative contact name for a girl who turned you down."
I turned back to my phone. Time to shoot my shot again.
Me: So about that ride
Cheerleader in a Tree: I was wondering when that was coming
Me: Friday. If you're free.
The three dots appear and disappear and appear again and I tried not to think about what that meant.
Cheerleader in a Tree: ...Friday works.
I held my breath as the three dots appeared again.
Cheerleader in a Tree: Tell Vito that Tig has formally accepted his connection request. Pending references.
Me: He'll be in touch.
The little bubble appeared one more time and then disappeared without sending. I waited. Nothing came. She'd typed something and deleted it, which I was going to think about for longer than was reasonable.
I put the phone in my pocket.
"Friday," Fox said.
"Don't."
"I'm just saying Friday is—"
"Four days from now, I know."