London Falling (Falling #2)(75)

I haven’t gone back to work yet, though I have a client set up for next week. Thank God, Nate was scheduled during this timeframe. We were able to postpone his until later next spring. And one of my clients had to cancel their design at the end of March because of a job offer that moved them to Los Angeles--which worked out fine for me. I received a fifteen percent cancellation fee which was a cool fifteen thousand for no work at all.

So I’ll start work on Nate’s Manhattan apartment then. I’m looking forward to getting to know him and digging into his world and psyche. He’s a bit of an enigma. Good looking, has a British accent that makes a girl swoon, yet he’s alone. He’s fit and muscular like his brother, makes a shit-ton of money, is extremely successful and a family man, but doesn’t have anyone? When I asked Collier about it, he shrugged and said he’s a piss poor judge of character.

I finished packing most of Collier’s clothes to go back to his apartment. He’s been acting weird about it all day. You’d think a man would want to go home after being held up in my master bedroom for two months and sharing a space with my best friend. Hasn’t made for a lot of privacy or intimacy for that matter. At least with him going back home, we’ll be alone. Finally.

“You bloody cock-sucking Yank!” Collier screamed from the other room. Yeah, space would be great.

“Blow me, Bond!” Tripp yelled back.

“That doesn’t even make sodding sense, you halfwit imbecile!” Collier roared back.

I rolled my eyes and made my way into the living room.

The two of them were deep into some first-person shooter video game. Apparently they were not on the same team during this particular match. When that happened, insults flew freely, mostly pertaining to Collier being British and Tripp being American.

“What the hell? You shoot like a pansy assed little prick!” Tripp shot off.

“Arsehole…stuff it before I stuff it for you!” Collier moved his shoulders left and right. Tripp followed as if they were actually sniping and hiding out avoiding predators. It was hysterical to see two grown men resort to being teenagers when they had a joystick in their hand.

“Oh wait. Ah ha! Gotcha you, bloody wanker. You can’t hide from me!” Collier jumped up in victory, then winced and grabbed his ribs.

I ran to his side to lay my fingers along the taped ribs. “Hey, baby, be careful. You’re just now feeling better. You can’t be jumping around like that.”

“Ha ha. Your woman told you!” Tripp looked at Collier smugly and made his way into the kitchen. “Must suck to answer to a woman all the time!”

“At least I have a woman to suck on me, you sore-losing bastard!”

“Guys, stop it. Jesus. I hate these video game wars. I’m so glad you’re going home tomorrow.”

“Really?” Collier’s eyes crinkled tightly together. “Why wait until tomorrow then,” Collier said in a huff. “I’m well enough now.” He slung the words over his shoulder as he stomped into the master bedroom.

“Bridge, what the f*ck?” I whirled on Tripp, eyebrows arched to the sky. “Can’t you see he’s sensitive about leaving you?”

My shoulders slumped as I leaned against the arm of the couch. “That hadn’t dawned on me. It’s not like he’s leaving me, exactly. I mean, he’s just going back home.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to go?” Tripp shrugged. “Talk to him. Go see what’s up.”

“Yeah, okay. You good?”

“Bridge, I’m fine. Stop nursing me. I’m practically perfect. Now, go after your man. Fix your stupid comment.”

“Okay, okay. Jeez, Louise. Sometimes I forget whose best friend you are.”

Tripp shrugged and smiled, then took a drink of Gatorade. “I’d have to say now that it’s both of you. I still love you more than anyone though. But I’m rather fond of our James Bond.” He swatted my ass and turned me toward my bedroom. “Go get your man. I’m heading for a walk to the local bookstore. Emma’s meeting me there for a coffee. Or tea and a biscuit.” He snickered and rolled his eyes. Tripp loved to make fun of Collier’s accent and now Emma’s. I think he did it to Emma more for personal reasons and to flirt than to admonish.

Then it dawned on me. Alone. Completely alone. Shit. For the first time in two months, Collier and I would have the apartment completely to ourselves. And I’ve gone and pissed off my man. Just my luck.

Once I heard the front door click and lock, I half ran to the master bedroom. I found Collier unceremoniously tossing clothing into a box. Some of it was mine, but he didn’t notice, obviously having something important on his mind.

“You realize you’re throwing my clothes in that box. You movin’ me out of here?”

He stopped and gave me the most heated look I’d seen in two long months. Instantly, my heart hammered, my blood thrummed and that sexual connection sizzled in the air.

“Would you consider moving?”

I nodded. “Guess it depends on who’s asking and what they’re asking for.”

In two strides, he was in front of me. Our bodies a scant inch from each other. It was like two magnets fighting to seal against one another. His hand tunneled into the hair at my nape pulling out the tie to let my hair tumble around my shoulders. He loved my hair and wanted his hands in it constantly. The other hand gripped my hip and urged our lower bodies against one another. I gasped. Instant warmth spread over me as we touched.