“Well, did you get it?”

“Get what?” Sloane gave him a dazed, questioning look.

“The picture.”

“The what?” If it was possible, her face darkened. “Oh, yeah, no!”

Like a ninja, she moved so quickly it nearly made Brady jump. She rolled back under his bed, this time disappearing from view.

He hadn’t expected that.

Just like he hadn’t expected to be dripping water all over his floor.

He went to his dresser and exchanged the hand towel for a towel and a pair of boxers. Movement let him know that Sloane was out again, but she didn’t make a peep until his boxers were in place.

“The glass didn’t crack,” she said, inspecting the frame closely when he turned back around. This time, she was standing. “Pretty sturdy frame.”

“Pretty standard picture, too. Why the interest?”

Brady knew why before he even asked. Felicity was in it. She wasn’t the only one—there was Brady between her and Dixon, and Dixon’s parents next to him—but Brady had a feeling Sloane’s interest was only running one way. Even now, she seemed to make it a point not to let her gaze linger on the woman in the frame.

“I was just curious, I guess. About Felicity.” Sloane plopped down on the bed. “I don’t really know much about her, and now she seems to be everywhere. What’s she like? You know, as a human.”

“Sadly, all I know about her is as an alien,” he joked, stepping into a pair of jeans. Sloane was so preoccupied, she didn’t seem at all interested in outdoing her previous blushes by staring at him unclothed. Weirdly, it was disappointing. Seeing her squirm was starting to become a sport he very much enjoyed.

“You know what I mean. She must be someone special to still have a place on your wall despite the breakup. Not to mention the whole you agreeing to our arrangement just to spite her thing.”

“Me agreeing wasn’t about her.” Sloane gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him. “Okay, not about her per se. It’s just a bonus.” He went to the closet and grabbed for a shirt.

“Because she didn’t think you were flexible.”

“Because she thought my passion for the bar wasn’t worth the time or effort.” Brady’s words came out harsher than he meant. He buttoned his shirt up in silence. Felicity’s opinion of the bar, and him by extension, was in the past. It didn’t bother him anymore.

Not one bit.