“No…” My eyes widen. “No, no, this is the best man. We’re not… he’s not…” I hold my index finger up with a grimace. “Hold on one second.”

Pushing Aleck back into the suite, I close the door, leaving it open a crack so as not to be rude. Or maybe it’s too late for that.

I whip around, narrowing my eyes on Aleck. “What the hell are you doing?!” I whisper shout.

“What?” he says nonchalantly.

“You’re being an ass!”

He points his finger at himself. “I’m being an ass?”

“Yes. You’re being. An. Ass.”

“Guys a douche,” he says loudly. “I drive farther at four in the morning to chase the best break,” he mimics.

“Shh!” I hiss. “He’s going to hear you.”

“I don’t give a shit. He brought you shitty flowers.”

I roll my eyes, ignoring his immature comeback. “Aleck, I am not yours. We are not a couple. You completely ignored me the rest of last night and I—”

“What? No, I didn’t. I was giving you what I thought you wanted. You left me in the bathroom—”

“Shh!” The last thing I need is Dylan hearing all about my tendency to give restroom head.

“Winter, did you want me to do more? You told me you didn’t want your friends to know about us. You were very adamant about that, actually.”

“And I don’t. You don’t either. Don’t act interested just because another guy is at the door asking me out.” I point my finger between us. “This is just casual… Right?”

Aleck scrubs his hand over his face, scratching the stubble on his jaw. “Yeah. It’s casual. We’ve never even fucked, so we’re basically nothing.” He stands with his shoulders back and his posture tense and rigid. “So, you’re going out with this guy?”

I watch the muscles in Aleck’s jaw working hard at grinding his teeth together. Does he actually care? If he does, he has a lazy way of showing it. Too bad he doesn’t have time to call Trent and have him deal with the matter. And Dylan, well, he went above and beyond for a simple chance. Which is far more than I can say for most of the men who have asked me out.

“Yes. I’m going to go out with him. He deserves a chance.”

Aleck nods curtly, pursing his lips together. “I’m going to go shower.” He turns around and starts toward the hallway. “Tell Spicoli I said good luck, he’s gonna fucking need it.” Then he disappears into the hallway.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I shout, but he’s already gone. A giant cloud of uncertainty and angst looms in his wake.

What the hell just happened?

Trying to shake off the feeling that I’ve somehow done something wrong, I set the wildflowers on the kitchen island, then go back to the suite door. I open it to find Dylan leaning against the hallway wall opposite the door, swiping through his phone. His eyes snap up to meet mine, and he pockets the device immediately.