Chapter 34
SHOW ME
Dev
As twilight spreads across the sky, we wander around the hotel grounds. “I feel bad not telling him the truth,” I say.
“Yeah. Me too. But…”
“But what?” I ask, jumping on the way he trailed off just there, eager to know if he found a loophole while he was a quiet, broody bastard in the back seat.
Ledger stops, scratches his jaw, a sign he’s still thinking. “Do we tell him about other women we sleep with? Separately or together?” It’s a rhetorical question, but I get where he’s going.
“No. We don’t,” I answer so fast, then I jump on the bandwagon. “We aren’t lying to him. It’s just not his business, right?”
Ledger holds up a hand. “Not so fast though.”
I groan. Of course he’s going to look at the other side of the story. I’m full speed ahead, but Ledger’s measured and steady. “We don’t have to tell him,” he says. “But does keeping it from him mean we’re the assholes? My ex lied to me. She cheated on me. I don’t want to be the asshole here, man.”
“This is not the same,” I point out. It’s like I’m on the ice again, and I’m seeing a whole new play. “And here’s the thing. Aubrey made it damn clear she doesn’t want a relationship. This is a rebound hookup and only that. We’re not going to tattle on her to her big brother. That’d be shitty.”
“I wasn’t saying that,” Ledger says evenly.
“I know, but my point is…women have agency. Women get to make choices. We get to make choices. We don’t need permission, and withholding something doesn’t make us liars,” I say, and I wish I’d seen this an hour ago, but I’m damn glad it’s crystalline now.
“This is her choice and our choice and no one else’s. ”
Ledger shakes his head in amusement. “Once a shrink’s son, always a shrink’s son.”
“And you fucking love my progressive opinions,” I say.
“I do, man. I really do.”
Time to bring it home. “This is about us and Aubrey. And when it’s over in a few more days, we’re all going to be fine. We’re all adults,” I say, making the closing argument to him. I’m going to sell this to the judge and the jury.
He’s silent for several seconds, perhaps weighing my arguments, then he nods and says, “Let’s go tell her we fucked up in the car.”
But we don’t just march back to the room. We make a pit stop in the restaurant kitchen and ask for a special dessert order, stat. Fifteen minutes later, Ledger’s knocking on the door to the suite. I’m holding a silver tray.
When Aubrey swings open the door, her gaze is wary as she assesses us.
She’s not welcoming us with open arms. But one look at her wearing pink yoga pants and a sports bra, and I know we made not only the right choice, but the only choice.
It’s not because of how good she looks in those clothes I want to peel off.
It’s because of who she is and how she stood up for herself.
I hand her chocolate-covered strawberries. “A peace offering?”
She opens the door wider. “Come in.”
Grateful she’s not still pissed, I head to the couch, Ledger by my side.
I set down the strawberries on the table, then I meet her gaze and give her the truth.
“Listen. Your brother’s been my friend for a long time.
Since I moved to Northern California when I was thirteen.
He’s been my agent for years too. He’s always done right by me, and I don’t want to be a jerk.
I’ve worked really hard to be a good guy. ”
“I get that,” she says.
“And I need him now, maybe more than ever,” Ledger says, letting some rare vulnerability show in his tone.
Aubrey pauses to process what we’re saying. “So this means…?”
“It means I just needed to make sure I wasn’t being a jackass,” I admit.
“And I didn’t want to lie to him,” Ledger says heavily.
Aubrey nods, her lips a ruler, like she’s bracing herself for bad news. “Okay.”
“But the thing is, like we’ve said—this is private,” I say.
“And even if he knew, he’d want to make sure we were treating you right,” Ledger adds.
Aubrey tries to fight off a smile. “Well, you definitely are.”
“But you deserve better than us giving you the silent, broody treatment,” I say.
She lifts her chin. “You’re right. I do.”
Ah, shit. I hope she’s not done with us. “We were jerks in the car,” I add.
“Kind of,” she says.
“You’ve had enough of that,” Ledger says. “You don’t need that from us. We want to be so fucking good to you.”
Her smile grows wider. “You do?”
“Yes,” I say, emphatic. “Because you deserve chocolate-covered strawberries, and champagne, and king-size beds, and three-Michelin-star restaurants, and all the orgasms you could possibly want.”
“That is, if you still want them. And us,” Ledger says, with openness and hope—the same damn hope I feel.
Aubrey’s gaze softens. Her eyes go warm. Then, in a strong, certain voice she says, “What we do behind closed doors is our business. No one else’s. We’re friends in public. But in private we’re…”
With wide eyes, she waits for us to fill in the dots.
Ledger gives a nod that makes it clear he’s taking this one. “We’re your men,” Ledger says, answering her with certainty too.
“We fucking are,” I say.
Her eyes roam over us like she’s a woman who knows exactly what she wants. “Then act like it,” she says.
I grab my phone and make a show of turning it off. Ledger does the same. Once Aubrey’s phone is off too, she says, “That play you mentioned earlier? Show it to me.”