“There aren’t that many.” Oliver relaxed near the foot of her bed.
“Hmph.” Vectra pursed her lips. “Does all that modesty keep your male friends from hating you?”
Oliver grinned. “It’s not always a good idea to sleep over. It can send the wrong impression.”
“Right.” Vectra tossed another pillow in the man’s direction. “You’ll change your tune when the time and the woman are right.”
“Well, the time wasn’t right on Friday.” Oliver plumped the pillow and placed it beneath his head. “I was preoccupied with wanting to come and check on you.”
Vectra lifted her brows. “Ahh...not so faithful in your ride for me after all?”
“That’s not it.” Oliver threw up a wave. “Sim’s a good guy, but I wanted to stop over and check on you, too.”
“And what if Qasim and I had been...indisposed?”
Oliver snuggled his head deeper into the pillow. “I’d have knocked. Anyway, that’s why I decided to wait—give you two the weekend.”
“How sweet of you.”
“It’s the kind of guy I am.”
Vectra tried to kick his shoulder, but he was too far away.
“There’s coffee,” he said. “Charlotte was leaving it when I got here. I guessed it was safe to come in.”
Vectra noticed the cart that had been pushed into her bedroom and smiled. The surface would be laden with coffee and tea. While she was more of a tea drinker, there were mornings when her tastes called for something stronger than the herbal blends she adored.
“What’ll you have?” Oliver pushed up from the bed.
Vectra kneaded the bunched muscles at her nape. “I think I need tea this morning.”
“Hmm... Friday night too tension filled?”
Vectra shook her head over the man’s blatant prying.
He noticed, shrugged. “Hey, I waited long enough. It is Monday, after all, and I was tired of waiting on you to call and yell at me for having Sim drive you home.” He poured a mug of his preferred black, unsweetened coffee.
“I wouldn’t have yelled.” Vectra drew her knees up to her chin. “It’s not every day a girl has Qasim Wilder drive her home.”
“So I’m forgiven?”
“If you hurry up with my tea.”
Oliver did as he was told. “This is progress,” he said when handing her the tea. “Wasn’t long ago when you would’ve lashed out at Dad or me something fierce for even hinting there was a guy we wanted to set you up with.”
“Is that what you’re trying to do?” Vectra blew across the surface of the tea. “Set me up with Qasim Wilder?”
“I’m worried about you, girl.”
Vectra saw how serious he was. Carefully, so as not to drop her tea, she eased back on the bed and patted the space beside her. “I thought you’d be happy that I wasn’t bringing home any more idiots.”
Oliver gulped his coffee, apparently unaffected by its hot temperature. “You didn’t exactly bring Keith Freedman home. Mom and Dad were responsible for that.”
“Hear, hear.” Vectra raised her mug in toast.
Technically, Oliver was correct. Keith Freedman’s parents had been hired by Oscar and Rose to work as gardeners on Carro. Keith had started out as a childhood friend who’d turned into an adult nightmare for Vectra.
“We just don’t like seeing you lock yourself away.”
“It’s easier.”
Oliver bumped her shoulder with his. “Like my decision not to spend nights over. Easier.”
Vectra smiled.
Oliver shrugged. “That is, until the time and the man are right.”
She nodded once at his play on her words. “I’ll be sure to let you know when that happens.”
“Hasn’t it already?”
She sipped at her tea, considering her response. “Qasim’s only a friend. He’s been one for a while, you know?”
“I know a lot about having female friends who are just friends, Vecs. I also know a lot about having female friends I want to take to bed. Sim Wilder doesn’t look at you like a female friend who’s just a friend.”
Vectra dissolved into actual giggles, and she only gave in to them when she was around her big brother.
“Should you be telling me this? Aren’t these playa secrets or something?”
Oliver shrugged. “Sim’s a good guy.”
“And you and Dad approve, is that it?”
“As far as me and Dad are concerned, nobody’s good enough, but, yeah, we approve even though we know you don’t give a damn.”
“I approve, too.” She wiggled her brows when Oliver looked stunned. “But it turns out Qasim isn’t as interested as you think.” She tapped out a morose tune against her mug. “He thinks he’s too rough around the edges for me—seems pretty set on us not being more than what we are.”