“Which is to say, not at all.”

“Exactly. But—”

“Hiya, boys,” Audrey said, bounding into Oliver’s man cave. Dressed in dark jeans, a plain white T-shirt, and her usual ponytail, she was the epitome of the girl next door.

His girl next door.

No. Not his. Not for real.

Not in the way that mattered.

“Whew, testosterone in here.” Audrey waved her hand in front of her face. “I’m surprised there’s not a dartboard and a humidor.”

“They’re getting delivered on Monday,” Oliver said with a grin.

“Figures. Anyway, Naomi sent me up. Appetizers are done.”

“Real appetizers or fussy canapés?” Scott asked skeptically.

Audrey tilted her head. “I think a man with scruff on his chin, wearing a faded bomber jacket, who also says words like canapés, might be just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Scott laughed and hooked an arm around Audrey’s neck as they headed toward the door. “You like that? I’ve got more fancy words. Hors d’oeuvres. Foie gras. Indubitably.”

“If I swoon, you’ll have to carry me down the stairs,” Audrey said, laughing as they left the room, Oliver at their heels.

Clarke took a moment longer, staring after them with a frown as he tried to place the unfamiliar emotion settling in his stomach. When he finally identified it, his scowl deepened. It was a first for him, and he understood now why it had a reputation for being so unpleasant.

Jealousy.

Chapter Fourteen

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1

Audrey managed to keep her smile in place throughout the entire dinner party. She’d laughed at the right times, complimented the fresh flowers on Naomi’s table, gushed over the food, and delighted along with Claire and Naomi in watching the men do the dishes. There was something downright amusing about watching big hands attempt to hand-wash dainty white wineglasses.

But under the surface, she’d been reeling. Ironically, the only person to notice was the same person who was at fault.

You okay? Clarke had murmured during dinner. She’d nodded.

You sure? he’d said out of the corner of his mouth as he’d cleared the table.

She’d nodded again, even as her brain screamed no.

She was not okay. She was not okay at all about what she’d overheard Clarke telling the guys, and worst of all, she couldn’t even identify exactly why. So what if Elizabeth wanted him back? It’s not as though Clarke wanted Elizabeth back, and even if he did, Audrey should be happy for them.

But try as she might to be happy for Clarke, or at least butt out of his business, she couldn’t stop her chest from aching at the knowledge that he hadn’t confided in her. He’d told the guys about Elizabeth’s proclamation, but not her.