“I look like a damn potato,” Nate whines, tearing off the beige, button-up shirt and tossing it onto his bed. My gaze narrows onto the now-crumpled shirt—one of many other shirts lying beside me. I sigh.
“I still think the teal one looks great on you,” I insist, pulling it out from the pile and holding it up. “It brings out the color in your eyes.”
Nate stares into his closet. “Yeah? You think?”
I nod. “Not think. I know.”
He lets out a low breath of defeat, holding out a hand, wriggling his fingers. “All right. Let me have it.”
I pass him the shirt. “So. What’s the big plan tonight?”
As Nate pulls the shirt over his head, he says, “Well, Luca said he’s taking care of it. So, I don’t know exactly.”
“But it involves taking over Valerie’s party?”
“Yes,” he offers a toothy grin, as hi
