East Bound Nana Malone (best ereader for students .TXT) 📖

I went up the stairs at a jog. Annabelle wouldn't have riding class until later this afternoon, so hopefully, I'd caught Drew at a good time. I knocked on his office door and opened it before he could even say, 'Come in.'

I found him at his massive oak desk with his head thrown back, euphoria on his face. "Jesus Christ, mate, are you wanking off?"

His head snapped up and his body jerked as someone under the table groaned.

I turned around quickly and sent my eyes skyward. "Mate, your kids are in the fucking house."

"My kids know how to fucking knock before they walk in."

"Is this what's up with you?" I expected Drew to send out whatever maid, or assistant, or personal blowjob-giver he had under the table. Instead, several seconds later, it was Drew, not the person under the table, who strode toward me, leading me out of the office.

"Let's go downstairs to the terrace."

"Who's under that desk, Drew?"

He sighed as he shoved me out of the door and closed it behind us. "East, fucking leave it alone."

I held up my hands. "Jesus, sorry to embarrass your maid, or assistant, or fuck, is that the nanny? Not that I don’t want plausible deniability. That way, when Angela comes for your arse, I can deny everything if I didn’t see her. Jesus Christ, Drew."

He shoved me toward the stairs. "Shut the fuck up. Think about all the things you have been up to over the years, and I’ve said nothing."

I glanced over my shoulder at him. His face was beet red, and a muscle in his jaw was ticking. "Fine. Next time lock the fucking door."

He grunted, still shoving me until I started to trip down the stairs. "Okay, okay, I got it."

When we got downstairs, I made a right toward the living room. He followed me and gave a quick snap to his servants to bring us tea.

"Drew, you dirty dog. God, I'm not sure I'll ever erase the look on your face out of my head. It's seared right in there."

"Fuck you. What do you want? And why didn't you call first?"

His gaze was wide-eyed. Alert. Was that fear? "Mate, you do what you want. But I need to warn you, this is dangerous territory. You know who Angela’s father is."

His skin was still blotchy, and he was still sweating as he ran his hands through his hair. "I know. I just... You were right. I was… careless."

Angela Blankenship-Wilcox was the daughter of Lord Frederick Blankenship. He was one of the Senior Elite council members and carried a lot of weight. "Okay, look, I was just taking the piss. Who you shag on the side is none of my business. But we are mates. You could have told me. I would have told you to be careful, but still."

He dropped his head and scrubbed both hands over his face. "I know. It’s just… I’m not exactly fucking proud of it. Everything is fucked.” Then I watched him pull that affable Drew mask back into place. “Sorry. I’m fine. What are you doing here?"

"Believe it or not, I’m checking on you."

Drew swallowed. “Cheers, mate." He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m fine.”

I lifted a brow. “You sure about that? Ever since Ben was named Director Prime, you’ve clearly been off your game. Now I find out you’re getting some strange from God knows who, in the house you share with Angela where she could have easily discovered you. I’d say… You’re not fine.”

“It's just that a lot has been going on."

I sighed. "Well, I wanted to know what the fuck is up with you. I could have found out the easy way. I could have been poking where I didn't belong. But we had a deal, you lads and I. I don't go poking where I might not be wanted. In fact, there's this shit called friendship. It's where I ask you questions, and you tell me what's going on with you."

Drew ran his hands through his hair. "Nothing is going on."

I watched him warily. "Look, I checked. You were off coms for a full minute last night. You've been cagey for weeks. Testy. What is up with you? It's like you don't want to put this shit behind us."

"Trust me, I want to put all of this behind us. Some days I wish we had never even started down this path."

I studied him closely. "What does that even mean? You don't want justice for Toby?"

"Mate, of course I do. It's fucking Toby. But it's just a lot. I have my family to think about, but you lot are my family too. This is just too fucking hard right now."

"I know. There have been a lot of mistakes, but we can fix them. We will get to the bottom of this. We will keep it away from you. Are Angela and the girls okay?"

He sighed then ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and surreptitiously wiping at his eyes.

"Drew, what the fuck? What is going on with you?"

"Nothing. It's just been stressful, mate. You know how married life is."

I frowned at him. He was giving me some kind of bullshit lie, and I didn't know why. "What I saw upstairs, is it a fucking problem?"

He swallowed. "No, it's not.”

He was lying. I could tell by the flush in his cheeks and the way he fidgeted before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you fucking in love or some shit?"

He swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know what I am.”

I whistled low. “Mate? Are you fucking serious right now? How do you think this is going to go? Blankenship is going to lose his shit if you hurt Angela.”

“I know, I know. And it wasn’t supposed to get this far." He ran his hands through his hair, looking like a man on edge.

“What are you going to do?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Mate.” I glared at him. “This should be a