For that alone, that world of disdain packed into a single syllable, Andy would have loved Scooter forever. “How?”
Nick smiled, impish. Andy had thought that smile was charming once. “Saw your picture online actually,” he said. “Pure serendipity, a little AP puff piece about—”
“Surfing and the hurricane,” Andy interrupted. God, he wanted to puke. “We’re done, Nick. I thoughtthat was pretty clear already, but since you didn’t seem to get it: we’re done. Go home and leave me alone.”
The door opened again, creaking on its hinges and a quick tattoo of smaller feet crossing the patio preceded the arrival of Kat, Jason just behind her, slower. She put on her performing-for-customers drawl and said, “S’there a problem, sugah?”
Nick’s eyes flicked sideways, registering Kat, and then Jason. Even Nick had to know a losing battle when he saw one, right?