The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(67)

“There’s a chick in our shower?”

“Yes!” he boomed, then swatted a hand toward me. “Well, not now. But there was when I came in.”

“No way.” Letting him know I totally didn’t believe him, I strode toward the bathroom and peered inside to see that the shower stall was still wet. I swerved back around. “Who the hell was she? How’d she get in here?”

“That’s what I’m trying to ask you, *. She said she knew you.”

“She did?” I scratched at my head, perfecting the confusion bit.

Poor Asher, he was really baffled by all this. “Well...damn it,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. “I think she did. She only spoke Spanish.”

I lifted my eyebrows in offence. “Oh, so all us Spanish-speaking people must know each other?”

“No...I didn’t mean it like that.” He scowled at me for even assuming as much. Then he blew out a breath. Once he was calmer, he explained, “I said your name and her face lit up with recognition. Then she rattled off...something that had the word amigo in it, which means friend, right? She had to have been one of your friends.”

Damn, he seemed really bothered by all this. I was tempted to break down and tell him everything, but then the fear of how he’d react scared me back into silence. “Well...” I frowned, hating this game more with each second. “What’d she look like?”

“Fucking gorgeous,” he said immediately, making my heart rate jack faster. “Long, straight black hair with these stray purple streaks in it. Eyes the same color as yours, but like fuller. Thick, dark eyelashes that seemed to go on forever. Heart-shaped face, flawless features. Perfect tits and legs, and...” He drew in a deep breath before adding, “A banging body. I shit you not; she was...beautiful.”

I blushed and was tempted to thank him. Hell, I was tempted to push him down onto his bed and crawl on top of him so he could appreciate everything he’d complimented up close and personal.

Instead, I shook my head and murmured, “Weird.”

He nodded. “So, you really have no idea who she was, or how she got in here?”

“No. Sorry. Do you...think we should say something to the hotel about it? It’s kind of freaky that just anyone could break into our room like that.”

“I don’t see why we need to. She only took a shower. And I don’t think she stole anything—except a towel—I mean, my laptop’s still lying right there.”

“Huh. That’s just...strange.”

My guilt for lying grew as Asher scratched his temple and murmured, “Yeah,” in an equally perplexed tone.

Because I couldn’t keep looking at him in all his confusion, I hurried to my side of the room. “I’m going to check my shit, anyway. See if everything’s still here.”





We made it back to Ellamore early that evening. Asher, of course, had to tell Heath and Gally about “shower girl.”

Gally’s first question was, “Did you f*ck her?”

Asher had declined to answer that aside from a roll of his eyes. He also downplayed how pretty he thought I was. I found it adorable, like his way of keeping me to himself and protecting his shower girl from the likes of a perv like Gally.

The next day—Monday—we didn’t have band practice, which was good because I had to work through the lunch hour. But I couldn’t get Asher off my mind. The thing with his dad, the song he’d sang for (possibly) me, how much fun I’d had writing lyrics with him, all the guilt I was packing around for continuously lying to him. It all swirled through me until I just had to see him.

I’d finished organizing the Non-Castrato box. I had planned on bringing it to practice the next day, but I couldn’t wait that long. I was going through Asher withdrawals. So after I got off work and showered, I texted him to learn he was working at Forbidden. And half an hour later, that’s where I found myself in my Sticks outfit.

The place was fairly dead...well, it wasn’t packed wall to wall with people. There were actually some tables free and I could walk directly to the bar without having to murmur “excuse me” to anyone. It was kind of nice. Almost peaceful. I felt the urge to slide onto a stool at the bar, order a beer, and sigh in total contentment. The entire atmosphere made me want to watch some reruns of Cheers.

I scanned the room for Asher, but didn’t spot him. The coworker who knew I was a female was the only one working. Crap. What had Asher called him? It’d been some number. Eight? Nine?

Ten. That was it.

Dreading the encounter, I plunked the box in my arms onto the bar top and sent him a scowl. “I have some shit for Hart. He around?”

In the middle of drying a glass he’d just taken from a tub of freshly cleaned mugs, he glanced my way. “You know, you don’t have to talk dude to me. I’m onto your chick status, remember?”

Damn, I hadn’t even realized I’d been talking like a guy. This was bad. It was becoming habit now as soon as I put on the suit. What if I completely lost all my girlishness soon? What if—okay, I might be overthinking this. With a scowl, I grumbled, “He said he was working tonight, and I could drop this box by for him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ten set the dried glass aside and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the counter, to get a look inside. “What is it? Kinky sex stuff?”