A Groom of One's Own (Appies, #3)

by Emma St. Clair

“You've lost your spark, Speed Bump,” Alec says as I set a plate down in front of him. The rest of the guys seem content to laze around while Felix finishes the food and I set the table. Do none of the guys have mothers who worship Emily Post and her many, many manners? I roll my eyes at the nickname, which unfortunately seems to be sticking. “I’m not a Twilight vampire,” I mutter. “I said spark, not sparkle,” Alec says. Van snorts. “I don't think men spark either.” He tugs at his V-neck, the only style of shirt he wears. Says the way his chest tattoos peek out makes women go crazy with curiosity and the need to see all of his tattoos. It’s a solid strategy, I guess, and it works for him. Van isn’t often alone. Not unless he wants to be. And I’ve never known him to want to be. He might be the only guy on the team as extroverted as me. I’m not even sure if, for him, it’s about having the company of women so much as … company. Period. But I’m not about to suggest that to him. Or say that even though he may not often be alone, I suspect he’s lonely.