Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(34)

Both Cav and Bo’s heads swing around to me in surprise, and honestly, I’m a little shocked by the words coming out of my mouth. Before Cav, I would have never said something like that. I guess that’s proof of the changes he has brought into my life.

“A real man, huh?” Bo glances from me to Cav. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Maybe,” I admit.

Cav wraps his arm around my shoulders. “She knows exactly what she’s talking about. Her advice isn’t bad, but we both know Win won’t be easily persuaded. Have you ever thought about kidnapping?”

I elbow Cav in the ribs, and he coughs when I make contact.

“Don’t listen to him. She’d be a hundred times more likely to shank you than screw you if you kidnap her.”

Bo’s eyes narrow, and he looks from me to Cav. “Do I even want to know?”

I shake my head. “Just put that option out of your mind. I promise you, it’s best for your continued long-term health.”

Silence falls over the three of us until Bo speaks again. “What about tossing her over my shoulder and carrying her out so I’ve finally got her attention?”

I purse my lips and consider, wondering if the perfectly coifed Windsor would freak. She seems pretty damn cool, but you never know how someone is going to react to being manhandled. Who knew I’d freaking love it?

“You can give it a try.”

Cav adds his opinion. “I say go for it. Greer’s right—Win doesn’t know what it’s like not be in control twenty-four/seven. She might actually respond well to that.”

Bo’s mouth turns up in a sly smile. “I get the same vibe. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He nods to me. “Good to meet you, Greer. I trust you’ll keep this guy in line.”

“I’ll do my best.”

And then Bo is gone, heading in Windsor’s direction.

“Is she ready for what’s coming her way?”

Cav shakes his head. “No. Win’s been living in her own little world for too long now. It’s time she rejoins the rest of us in the real world. But Bo’s got his work cut out for him. She’s as resistant as any woman I’ve ever met to the idea of getting into another relationship. That’s why it was so easy for us to be friends.”

I want to ask the obvious question—You really didn’t sleep with her?—but I keep it locked down. There’s nothing to be gained by asking. If he did, it’s going to ruin my mood, and it’s kind of unfair of me to judge because I was sleeping with Tristan, but Cav doesn’t hold that against me. And secondly, I like Win, and I don’t want to feel an urge to claw her eyes out the next time I’m within two feet of her.

Yep, the newfound cray-cray jealous streak is still alive and well. Some questions are best left unasked.

Cav and I finish eating, talking to a few more people who wander by the table. So far, I’ve met more famous people in the last hour than in my entire life. My brother might be well connected, but that doesn’t mean I get to rub elbows with most of his connections. Besides, investment bankers and industry titans aren’t quite the same as larger-than-life film stars.

The best part about tonight? I’m learning a lot about Cav from these interactions. He’s well liked, humbler than most, and seems very proud to have me on his arm. I don’t talk much, mostly saying what I think is the right thing when it’s my turn.

Cav and I leave the table after speaking with a director I think he’d like to work with—gleaned from my mad observational skills. He leads me back outside to the pool area and sits on a chaise lounge before pulling me down beside him. My third glass of red is going down just as smoothly as the last two, and I’m hoping I can discreetly ask Windsor what this incredible vintage is.

Cav is also on his third drink. I can smell the Scotch on his lips when he tucks his arm around my hips and leans down to ghost them over mine.

“You fit in here.”

His words are a boost of confidence I didn’t know I needed. I’ve been telling myself all night that these people aren’t that different from me. I face many of the same challenges without having the same job. And I could probably buy and sell several of them, so there’s that.

“I’m glad you think so.” I pause, considering whether it’s actually the compliment I took it as. “That’s a good thing, right?”

Cav looks down at me, his brow furrowed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

I shrug. “It’s clear you don’t like all of these people, so I guess I wanted to make sure.”

He considers before responding. “Do you like all the people in your crowd in New York?”

“Of course not.”

“But would it matter to you that I fit in with them?”

“Yes and no. I don’t care whether I fit in with them all the time, and they can be pretentious as hell.”

Cav scans the room. “I feel the same way about the people here. There are plenty I’d rather avoid, a few I really like, and the rest I can either take or leave. What I was trying to say is I’m glad you don’t feel out of place. This isn’t the easiest crowd to work, but I never doubted you’d be able to handle it.”

Again, his words fill me with warmth. When did it become so important to me to fit into his world?