Bad Things(24)

He stopped eating, watching me. “A thing?”

I shrugged. “A weekly thing.”

“Care to elaborate? Is this a date type of thing, or a girls’ night type of thing?”

I blinked at him, caught off guard by the idea of it being a weekly date. What on earth had I said that would make it sound like it was a date?“It’s a girls’ night.”

“Where at?” he asked, taking a bite.

I studied him, wondering what was going through his mind. “It’s here at the house. Why?”

He shrugged. “I thought maybe I’d swing by after I’m done tonight and join you. You’re meeting all of my friends. I can return the favor.”

“It’s a girls’ night, so…”

He shrugged. “I’ll finagle my way in.”

“We won’t be partying until four in the morning, so you’ll still be out by the time we’re done.”

His eyes narrowed on me. “Why don’t you want me to come to this thing?”

I poked a finger into his chest. That only served to turn his glare into a smile. “You aren’t invited. Don’t sweat it. It’s just a small, quiet get together. You’d be bored to tears in five minutes.”

“What time does it start?”

“Early. And it ends early.”

“Do you all sit around and talk, or like watch chick flicks?”

I sighed. “We sit around and talk and drink cocktails. There’s not a thing about it you’d be interested in. Just go and do your usual routine tonight. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

That lit his face up with his most sinister smile. “I feel like you’re daring me to come.”

I shook my head. “You’re a whack-job, you know that? I am most definitely not daring you. I’m warning you off.”

That had his eyes narrowing again. “You’re hiding something from me. I’m going to ask Bev what this is all about.

I lifted my chin. “Go for it. She’ll tell you what I just did. Girls only. No boys allowed.”

He sighed, finally looking resigned about the whole thing. “Fine. What about tomorrow night? We on for tomorrow?”

I smiled, relieved that he was done pressing the issue. I really didn’t want Lucy to get a load of him. She wouldn’t believe for a second that he and I were purely platonic. Hell, even I didn’t really believe it.

“We’re on,” I told him.

“Any plans for today?” he asked, taking the last bite of his sandwich.

“I told the boys I’d swim with them after breakfast.”

“You said you’d swim with us for four hours!” Ivan called from his couch, where he was scarfing down his blueberry pancakes.

“I said four hours or until you said uncle,” I called back. I took a huge bite out of my sandwich, stuffed but unable to throw it away.

Tristan snagged the last bit out of my hand, eating it.

“Lucky for you, I have swim trunks packed,” he said after he’d washed the bite down with a long drink of his water.

“Oh, darn. I was hoping you’d have to borrow a bikini from me. That would have made my day.”

He laughed. “You’ll have to remember that the next time you win a bet.”

Tristan was competitive. In fact, he took the term to a whole new level. He could turn anything into a challenge, from eating breakfast, to being the dogs’ favorite, and he liked to gamble with it. Always. Even my mundane life was never dull, with Tristan around.

“Oh, I will, now that you’ve put it on the table.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, waving a hand as though to ward the notion off. “It’s not on the table unless you have something just as big to wager on your end.”

I pursed my lips, thinking. “I’ll come up with something by the time you pull some new competition out of your sleeve.”

“How about letting me sleep in your bed?” His expression was perfectly innocent, the reprobate.

“Excuse me?” I asked, wondering if I’d heard him right.

“No funny business. If I win our next wager, I get to sleep in your bed with you, instead of on the couch. I repeat, no funny business. If you win, I’ll wear one of your bikinis for a humiliating swim session. It’ll have to be here at the house, and with the boys gone, since I can guarantee I’ll be exposing myself.”