“Carlie, whatever it is, I won’t tell anyone,” Lily offers, placing a hand on my knee.
I nod, blowing out a breath. “There was an event …” I chew on my lip, studying Lily’s face as if I can somehow telepathically send her the information she needs.
But then, just as I suspected, recognition flickers in her brown eyes. Lily’s fingers tap against her chin, a silent signal of her processing the information.
“Oh,” is all she says.
It sounds like a full sentence when’s he says it like that.
I swallow hard. “I think … you planned it, didn’t you? At Nocté?”
Lily’s face is a study in restraint. She’s always been good at hiding what she’s thinking, but right now, I wish I could read her mind. “Carlie, I?—”
“Because if you did,” I press on, not letting her evade the question, “it means you understand how this is a little bit …”
Lily glances toward the hallway, and I remember that London is probably here, somewhere in this house. Her eyes flick back to me, filled with a mix of emotions. “Carlie, I can’t talk about ...”
Duh, Carlie.
The club has rules for participants. They probably have an NDA or something for the people who work the event.
I could facepalm myself right now.
“I get it,” I cut her off, my frustration simmering. “But I’m not asking for club secrets. I’m asking about my life, Lily. My mess of a life that seems to be tangled up in all this.”
She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she’s choosing her words carefully. “I can’t confirm or deny anything about what goes on at Nocté. But Carlie, this is about you and Adam. Whatever happened—or didn’t happen—at that event, it’s your story to write now.”
“Oh, it happened. One hundred percent it happened,” I mutter, slumping back into the couch.
“How do you know?” Lily asks, her question coming out tentatively.
The memory of his tattoo is etched in my mind—impossible to forget.
“He has this tribal tattoo …”
“Oh,” she breathes out with a nod. Somehow, it’s like she understands just how powerful that damn artwork can be.
Come to think of it, London has tattoos.
Focus,Carlie.
I shoot her a pointed stare. “Right?”
“Okay, well …” She glances over her shoulder again, her gaze flitting to the back porch. When she turns back to me, she leans in close and whispers, “Then you know the rules, right? Is that why you’re upset? You want to go back to the club?”
My eyes widen in horror. “No—no. I have no intention of trying to hook up with someone else.”
Confusion flickers across her face. “Are you worried that Adam wants to?—?”
I shake my head, though, if I’m honest, that horrific thought never occurred to me.
Thanks, Lily.
“Then, I don’t see the problem. You can just—” she begins.
A strangled breath escapes my lips as I blurt, “Hedoesn’t know.”
Lily’s expression is one of confusion and anticipation as she waits for me to continue my tirade. Before I can continue to pour out my heart, Lily’s phone buzzes on the coffee table.
