She eyes the stairs for a moment before turning her gaze back on me. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Her lips rub together, eyes going back to the staircase like she’d rather escape than finish her thought. “For thinking of me and giving me time to figure out what to do.”
Knowing there’s nothing I can say to that, I nod and watch as she disappears upstairs. It isn’t until I hear the door click closed that I let out a long breath and grab my phone off the table.
“Hey, man,” I greet as soon as the line picks up. “Can we meet somewhere and talk?”
Kyler Bishop is waiting in the corner of the Lazy Croc’s VIP lounge for me, an arm thrown over the side of the booth as he watches some workers prepare for the club to open.
When I approach, he doesn’t even bother turning to me before he says, “We could have met somewhere else. The owner kept trying to convince me to invest in this sketchy ass place.”
I snort, sliding in across from him. Only then does he turn to me, an eyebrow drawn when I speak up. “That’d be Roderick. He’s always looking to expand. Ever been here before?”
The pretty boy’s dark eyes roll as he checks out the lounge. “No. I know this place is your hangout. Plus, the club scene has never really been for me.”
The Lazy Croc is where a small inner circle knows where to find us. Despite the many ups and downs surrounding this place, we always gravitate toward it.
I grin. “I suppose that’s because you always enjoyed playing house with little Bishop instead of spending it with people your own age.”
His responding glare makes me snicker, but he doesn’t deny the claim. “Why did you even ask me to come here?”
“Because you’ll give me unbiased advice unlike everyone else I know. The boys will tell me to do whatever I want, my mother will give me a five-day lecture on every reason why it’s a bad idea, and Chase is a wildcard. Wily, that one.”
Curiosity floods his otherwise taut features, his arm flexing where it still rests across the back of the booth. He says he’s over the drama my brother caused him and his girl, but I can see there’s still irritation flickering whenever I mention the youngest Matthews. “Aren’t you close with your mother? If you know she won’t approve, then you probably shouldn’t do it.”
I lift a shoulder in contemplation. “I’ve done far worse things. This is saintly compared to half my life decisions.”
He’s silent, taking in my vague introduction into what I’m about to say.
“I’m thinking about getting married.”
He blinks, cocking his head. There’s a microsecond of surprise before he wipes it away and shows his indifference again. “Repeat that for me.”
Amused, I repeat myself and watch as his eyebrows dart toward his hairline. “It’s one of my better ideas, really. In hindsight, Mum would be celebrating this one if we had to rank some of my past choices.”
He drops his arm and settles into his seat, giving me a dumbfounded look. “You do realize you can’t marry yourself, right? I know how much you love yourself, but it’s not legal. You’ll need another human. I know you’re not picky, so you have your options open, but then you’d have to be stuck with them. There’s a lot to consider. Wait a minute.” His eyes narrow. “Why the hell are you even considering this? You’ve never had a serious girlfriend once in your life.”
Even though me and the competition eying me down have never been close, he’d still know whether or not I want to put a ring on it because of how many mutual acquaintances we have in the industry that gossip worse than bored housewives. “There’s a first time for everything. Look at you. You’ve been salivating over the same girl for years. How is Leighton, by the way?”
“That’s not true and you know it.” He gives me the same overprotective look he always does when I bust his balls about her. “And she’s doing fine. Asks about Chase sometimes. And you. Mostly you out of solidarity.”
“Little Bishop loves me more than that and you know it.”
His glare strengthens.
Chuckling, I relent. “Her name is Rylee.”
He eases his tense muscles. “How long have you known each other?”
“What are you, my mother?” I counter in amusement, watching as he shakes his head in exasperation. “We’ve known each other for about a month now give or take.”
He gapes.
“What?”
“A month,” he repeats.
I smile casually. “Yes.”
“Thirty days.”
“Or less.”
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s never heard of this before.
“How many people have married after barely knowing each other two weeks? There are literally reality TV shows of people getting engaged after a day. Haven’t you seen the one where they’re in pods and can’t even see each other’s faces? They talk through a wall until their insanity gets the better of them, and by day five all of them are claiming true love by the person’s voice alone.”
Kyler drops his head forward. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you watch that kind of shit. Or that you’d pull this.” Scrubbing his chin, he asks, “So what is this about anyway? Is Rylee pregnant or something?”
“How many times have I told you, mate? No glove, no love. It’s the golden rule.”
“Treat others the way you want to be treated is the golden rule,” he disagrees.
I wave him off. “Same difference.” The muffled snort I get from him has me smirking. “I need Rylee’s help to get the media to move on from Zayne and Violet Wonders and she needs mine for her own personal reasons. It’ll be mutually beneficial for the both of us by getting married. At least with a marriage, they’ll move on faster than if Zayne is leaving.”
“Is he leaving?”
My teeth grind. “Isn’t that the question of the century?” I’ve asked the man in question point blank, and he’ll never look me
