Page 62

Ah. There was that flirty foreplay I’d missed. “Good feeling.”

He grinned at me as he continued to chew. I still hadn’t adjusted to it: Jude being über-rich. He had close to no table manners, lived in Levi’s and a white Hanes undershirt, and thought the Hamptons was a seventies rock band. You never could have known by looking at him that he was a millionaire.

And I loved that about him.

I hoped he’d still be sporting Hanes and Levi’s in ten years.

“So how was that movie you guys went to last Friday?” India asked, waving a fry at Thomas and Holly.

“It was all right,” Thomas said.

Holly couldn’t have looked more offended.

“But the company was phenomenal,” he clarified, giving her a wink.

“That’s what I thought,” she said.

“Did you guys make out or do anything freaky after?”

Holly choked on her burger. Thomas went red, a rare shade of scarlet, thanks to his fair skin.

“India,” I said, “could you be any more awkward?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” she asked, while Jude thumped Holly’s back.

“Yeah. I suppose it is.”

India blew me a kiss before returning to the grand inquisition. “Well? Spill,” she said, looking between Holly and Thomas. “You two have so much pent-up S-E-X-U-A-L tension for one another I’ve almost passed out from lack of oxygen.”

“God, India,” I said, tossing a fry at her. She dodged it, so it flew into Anton’s chest.

I smiled. Even better.

“No,” Holly said, covering LJ’s ears. “We didn’t kiss or do anything else of a freaky or kinky nature, since you just have to know.”

Jude covered his mouth, but it wasn’t keeping his laughter contained.

“And just for future reference, we won’t ever be kissing,” she added.

Thomas’s head whipped to the side. “What?” he said to Holly. “Why not?” So much for playing the cool guy.

The skin between Holly’s brows creased. “Because I’m a girl,” she said slowly, like she was confused, “and you like boys.”

Thomas’s and my mouth fell open at the same moment. Maybe I should have been more direct with Holly about Thomas’s attraction to her, but I thought it’d been obvious. I hadn’t realized she still thought he was g*y after the first night we all had dinner.

Judging from the hurt look on Thomas’s face, I didn’t think he’d ever be the same after this blow.

“You think I’m . . . I’m . . . g*y?” Damn. He couldn’t have sounded more insulted either.

Holly’s shoulders slumped as her hands fell away from LJ’s ears. “Aren’t you?”

“I’ve got the little man,” Jude said, standing and grabbing LJ. He tossed him over his shoulder, much to LJ’s delight. “You want me to teach you how to throw a football ten thousand yards now?”

“Yay!” LJ replied, giggling as Jude walked him down the hall before disappearing into the bedroom.

That man was getting laid so good tonight.

“So wait.” Holly shook her head. “You’re not g*y? You like women?” This was clearly rocking her worldview.

“What? No!” Thomas twisted in his seat.

“No, you’re not g*y, or no, you don’t like women?” Holly asked.

“No, I’m not g*y!” This was the first time I’d heard Thomas raise his voice. I suppose if there ever was a time for a guy to lose his cool, it was when the girl he had it bad for thought he was g*y the entire time.

“Whoa.” Holly gave her head another shake. “This revelation is . . . profound.”

“Unbelievable. My whole life people have assumed I was g*y because I was a dancer. People judged me because I slipped into a different kind of spandex than the other guys in the locker room.” Thomas shoved his seat back, stood up, and headed for the door. “I didn’t think you were one of those people, too, Holly.”

“Thomas,” Holly called after him. “Wait.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, continuing to storm for the door. “I’m going to find some boys to kiss.” When he slammed the door, it shook the walls.

“He’s not g*y?” she said, more to herself than anything else. “Did you know?”

“He’s been my dance partner for three years,” I replied, staring at the door. “Of course I knew he wasn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought you figured it out after the first night you met him,” I said, hating the way Holly was looking at me—like I’d betrayed her.

“I did think that, until we went on our date last Friday,” she said. “Until he kept bringing up this guy Samuel. He was talking about him making breakfast that morning, and how he always leaves his wet towels on the floor, and . . .” Holly’s face blanched. “Oh, my God, Samuel is Thomas’s roommate, isn’t he?”

I clucked my tongue. “Bingo.”

“Shit,” she said, slamming her fist down on the table.

“Do you like him, Hol?” I asked, feeling like I already knew the answer.

She bit her lip and nodded.

“A lot?”

Another nod.

“Then what are you still doing here?” I said. “Go after him.”

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