Own Me (The Wolf Hotel, #5)(39)

Dinner is finished and we’ve moved to the living room where the bartender plies us with drinks and the guys regale us with embarrassing boarding school stories. The only one not laughing is Tatiana, who’s parked on the couch, consumed by editing pictures of herself on her phone.

“Come on, I may have fucked the dean’s daughter, but Wolf takes the crown.” Preston jams a finger toward Henry. “How many times with our English teacher?”

Henry smooths a hand over his mouth as the men explode in a raucous roar.

“In detention once, right?” Warner asks. “Also in the library one night, after it closed.”

“Henry!” Margo exclaims. “How old were you?”

“Sophomore year,” Preston answers for him.

She tsks, but she’s smiling. It’s impossible to shock that woman.

“But wait. Isn’t that, like … bad?” Kendra giggles, scrunching her nose as she tries to hide her disapproval.

“Fuck yeah, but Wolf wasn’t innocent. I was so jealous of him.” Merrick shakes his head. “Remember those heels she always wore?”

Warner moans. “God, yes. You think she still teaches in those?”

Henry’s eyes fly to mine, and I see the same unease in them that’s cycling through me. This feels wrong, listening to them froth at the mouth over the woman when she’s freshly in a pine box.

The mother of Henry’s child.

But they don’t know any of that because Henry hasn’t told them, and now is hardly the time.

“Guys, enough.” He gives them a warning look, but they all just laugh harder. No one else seems to notice the way his body has stiffened.

“Come on, that was forever ago. As if anyone would care now.” Preston chuckles, but then gasps and points at me. “Wait a minute, did she not know?” As if I’m not listening to this entire conversation.

Henry’s jaw tenses. “Abbi knows.”

Boy, do I ever. And plenty of people would still care. One of them is a girl struggling with the memory of her mother. I’ve thought about Violet more than I expected to this week—about how she’s feeling, how she’s coping. I nearly asked Henry for Gayle and Howard’s number so I could call and check up on her, but I decided against it. She needs more time.

A chorus of chirps sounds with incoming texts. The four men and Margo fish for their phones.

“We’ve got the location!” Merrick announces, the first to read the message.

Henry’s shoulders sag, with relief for the change in subject, I’m sure. “And it’s a good hour’s drive from here, so we better get a move on. See you all there.”

“I think he’s kicking us out.” Preston downs his drink.

“He’s definitely kicking us out.” Warner pats Henry’s shoulder with one hand. “See you soon, buddy.” Swooping in to collect my hand, he kisses my knuckles. “I know this degenerate had nothing to do with dinner, so thank you, Abbi, for making the first part of the night perfect.” He winks. “See you later.” He waves at everyone else.

Tatiana stands and follows him without a word.

“Not the most charming, is she,” Joel mutters, his face pinched with distaste.

“What do you mean? She’s a fucking delight,” whispers Preston—too loudly—and then kisses my cheek, hooks his arm around Kendra’s shoulders, and they leave.

Margo offers me her signature two-cheek kiss. “We will look for you,” she whispers and then pulls away to kiss Henry’s cheek. “Walk with me a moment.”

Henry obliges, and Joel trails them out.

Merrick is the last to leave. He towers over me. “You still mad at me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” But I struggle to hide my smile. It was a good joke on their part.

“Henry made me do it.”

“And do you always do what Henry tells you to do?”

He shrugs. “He can be hard to say no to, as I’m sure you’ve learned.”

I narrow my eyes, searching for meaning hidden within his words.

He laughs at me, and then, with an affectionate squeeze of my biceps, says, “I think you’ll forgive me when you see what I’ve chosen for you.”

I watch his back as he ambles toward the foyer, fist-bumping a returning Henry on the way.

“Okay, Raj will see the caterers out and Victor will be downstairs in fifteen minutes to drive us. Let’s get upstairs and—”

“Did you and Merrick ever hook up?” I interrupt.

He gives the bartender a salute as he leads me toward the stairs. “No.”

“Henry …”

“Why would I lie? You know I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done.” His lips twist. “But there is a story.”

I knew it. “What happened—”

“Not now, Abbi. We have the event of the year to get to.” His tone brokers no argument.





CHAPTER 11





The long row of high-end SUVs and cars crawls forward, each taking their turn at the curb, releasing their patrons before quickly pulling away. The cloaked figures cut through the shadows and vanish through a long, narrow path draped in the typical red and gold fabric of a circus tent.