“Right, and Allie has always said she sees us married one day,” I mutter.
“Yeah. One day.”
“So what does it matter if we’re engaged now but get married in ten years?”
“Exactly,” he says, head tipped in challenge, “what does it matter? Why do you need that ring on her finger so badly?”
That gives me pause. I suppose he has a point. We don’t need to be engaged. We already live together. We know we’re in it for the long haul.
It’s just a ring, right?
My hand curls tighter around my glass. No, though. It’s not.
It’s a symbol.
A symbol of our commitment. Yes, we live together and are in it for the long haul, and yes, I know engagements get broken all the time, but…Christ, I don’t even know anymore. And the irony of this entire situation doesn’t escape me. The guy who slept around in college, the self-proclaimed manwhore whose nickname was Dean the Sex Machine, needs a pledge of commitment otherwise his pwecious wittle heart won’t feel safe?
“The way I see it, you’re at an impasse. You can’t force her to get engaged.”
“No,” I agree.
“Then what are you going to do? Break up with her?”
I glare at him.
“What? It’s a valid question.”
“I’m not breaking up with her.” Frazzled, I gulp down almost half my drink before setting it on the desk. “I guess my only option is to accept she loves me but just isn’t ready. And then keep living our lives until that changes.”
“Holy shit. That’s very mature of you.”
I smirk. “I have my moments.”
On the nightstand, Garrett’s phone buzzes. He leans toward it to check the screen. “That’s Wellsy. One sec. Let me just text her back—”
“WHAT THE FUCK!”
We both jump when a male shout echoes beyond Logan’s door. It’s quickly followed by a female shriek.
A very familiar shriek.
Frowning, I march toward the door and loudly rap my knuckles against it. “Logan, was that my girlfriend?” I demand.
“Dean?” Allie’s unmistakable voice.
“Allie-Cat?” I call back. “Is that you in there?”
“Yeah, I’m here with Logan.” There’s a pause. “And his penis.”
Garrett’s head pops up from his phone. Sheer delight lights his face. “Oh God. I don’t even care that we got our asses handed to us by Jersey. This night officially just became the greatest.”
He hops off the bed and races to my side. One of G’s favorite pastimes is—to quote the asshole himself—“serving as a bystander to our stupidity.”
I knock on the door again. “Unlock this thing.”
When I hear a click, I throw the door open and burst into Logan’s room, where I find Allie and Logan facing off. My girl stands on one side of the king-sized bed, wearing the sequined dress she’d donned for the club. Only one stiletto, though. I look around, spotting the other heel on the carpet near the far wall by the bathroom.
On the other side of the bed is Logan. He’s buck naked.
I lift a brow. “Nice dick,” I tell him.
He sighs.
“Any reason why you’re showing it to my girlfriend?”
“I didn’t show her a damn thing.” His bare pecs flex as he lifts both hands to rake through his damp hair. Droplets of water slide down his neck. “I got out of the shower, and she was just right there, sitting on my bed. I thought it was another thirsty bunny.”
“So you decided to drop your towel?” Allie challenges.
“I was mid-drop when I walked out of the bathroom. Don’t act like I was stripping for you.” He scoffs. “You wish.”
Garrett snickers. In a helpful gesture, he picks up the towel and tosses it to Logan, who hastily covers up his pretty package.
My attention returns to my girlfriend. “Why are you in Logan’s room?”
“Why aren’t you in Logan’s room?” she shoots back. “Your text said Logan’s room!”
“His minibar was empty so we moved over to G’s. You didn’t think it was weird when you walked in and nobody was there?”
“I saw your jacket on the chair and heard someone in the bathroom. Thought it was you.” She crosses her arms defensively. “I certainly didn’t expect your friend to walk out with his stupid penis.”
“My penis isn’t stupid,” Logan protests. “How did you even get in here?” His exasperated gaze travels to Garrett. “How do they keep getting in here!”
Garrett shakes with laughter.
“My costar Malcolm brought a friend to the club tonight,” Allie tells us. “And turns out the guy’s dad owns all the Azure hotels. Don’t you dare rat him out, but he asked one of the bellhops to give me a copy of Logan’s key card.” She smiles broadly. “We met up at the service entrance behind the kitchen, and he handed it over all stealthy-like. It was like a drug deal.”
I fight a laugh. Only Allie would enjoy a pseudo drug deal with a total stranger. She probably memorized the entire encounter in case she needs it to prepare for a role one day.