“Can’t remember,” I lie.
Her eyes go flat. “So you saw someone else you slept with before and didn’t want it to get awkward.”
My reputation precedes me. “No. It was—”
You’re obsessed, dude. You’re so obsessed you hear it as two separate words. Ob. Sessed. Shoot your shot, bro. Shoot. Your. Shot. Then move on.
I glance around the room. Where Waverly goes, her aunt Zinnia is sure to follow, and honestly?
That’s who I didn’t want to see me.
She was approaching Waverly’s group when I realized they were both there, and I needed to not be spotted for my own sake.
I almost have more history with Zinnia than I do with Waverly. She was the messenger when Waverly dumped me. When I ended up at a party in Vegas a year later that Waverly was also unexpectedly attending, Zinnia was the one who appeared out of nowhere basically the minute I spotted Waverly and showed me out. My agent let it slip that I’d lost out on an endorsement deal that my buddy Luca Rossi ultimately got because Zinnia Sweet stepped in and informed the parent company that Waverly wouldn’t be following through with her line of skin care products for them if I became the face of their shampoo line.
But I don’t see Zinnia in the Fireballs’ clubhouse now.
Only the rest of Waverly’s entourage, who are all listening in.
I have no idea what she’s doing here at my baseball park, but she’shere.
Fuck it.
I’m done ignoring the signs.
I’m done hiding and I’m done letting Zinnia Sweet in my head. “I didn’t want your aunt to see me and make a scene.”
Waverly’s brows knit together. “Why would—oh my god.”
“Yeah. I—”
“Oh my god.” The secondoh my godcomes out as a shriek. She shoves the tumbler at her assistant, then lifts a hand that clearly tells the security guard to back off, which he does.
And then she’s grabbing me by my shirt and shoving me out into the hallway and slamming the door behind us, demonstrating that she no longer needs her guard because she intends to tear my limbs off all by herself, which, yeah, is also hot.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?” she hisses.
“What?”
“You slept with my aunt! Oh my god.Years, Cooper. Foryears, I’ve thought you decided to ghost me because I was an annoying little brat who got too attached because you were good in bed, even though Itotallyrestrained myself from texting you every single minute of those days right after since Aunt Zinnia kept telling me no one wants a desperate woman, but that’s not it at all.You couldn’t keep it in your pants and you slept with my aunt and neither one of you would tell me.”
“Ew,” I gasp. I might gag a little. Okay, I definitely gag a little. “No—ew.”
Waverly plants a hand on her hip and glares at me. “What, now she’stoo old?”
“No, she—” I blow out a slow breath aimed at the ceiling. “I don’t sleep with women who tell me I’m not good enough, and I don’t sleep with women who give off the needy vibe, and I don’t sleep with women when they’re related to the woman I’d really like to date.”
She blinks, clearly surprised and unable to hide it, and I realize her lashes are plastered thick enough to be seen four states over, and her eyeshadow glitter is rainbow glitter, and that’s not my obsession talking.
She’s actually wearing rainbow glitter eyeshadow and eyelash extensions, and I’m so fucking drunk on being near her that it took me this long to notice.
Those gorgeous eyes waver over her smooth, round cheeks, questions and doubts written all over her expressive face. “Aunt Zinnia told you you’re not good enough?”
Fuck.
Zinnia wasn’t Waverly’s messenger. She was running interference all on her own.
And I get it.
