If anything happened to her…Shit.I’d always wonder if I could’ve prevented it. Even if the victim was somebody I loathed.
So I followed her out. She didn’t get into a car—Jude must have driven—and didn’t have an umbrella. She just ambled along the dark sidewalk, in and out of the few streetlights, letting the chilly early-spring rain soak her.
I glanced at my umbrella, then at her.Nah. That was more interaction than I wanted. Ever since her betrayal, I’d looked straight through her. Let her words glide off me without showing anything to her.
She was dead to me the moment she backstabbed me.
I maintained a few yards between us. She didn’t seem to notice anybody was following.Jesus. Shouldn’t a girl be more aware of her surroundings at night? She could get into trouble.
Stop sounding like you care.
Suddenly, the rain intensified, wind picking up. A blinding bolt of lightning split the sky. She stopped and looked up at the streetlight to her right. Her lashes fluttered in the rain, and her mouth pressed tight, the corners turned downward. Her shoulders heaved slowly. If she was crying, the drizzling water hid the tears.
An instinctive impulse to reach out surged, and I squelched it—hard. She didn’t deserve to be comforted, especially not by me. If she regretted choosing Jude over me… Well, too late for buyer’s remorse.
Still, that image of her in the rain has been etched to my subconscious. And the photo that just arrived reminds me of that night for some reason.
Did she know I was following her? Is she sending me these things because she thinks there might be some kernel of care for her still inside me? Something other than sheer loathing?
If she thinks she can leverage me against myself, she’s mistaken. I’m not going to bail her out of the trouble she’s in. What Josh said about her becoming a trophy wife or mistress pops into my head.
Let her marry some old geezer. I don’t care. I really don’t.
My belly burns like there’s a hole in my gut. I grab a glass of whiskey, then block the number and let out a sigh of frustration. I’m not finding an outlet for my restlessness here tonight. Maybe call one of the girls? But no one looks good as I thumb through my contact list.
My cousin Huxley Lasker would know some hot model. On the other hand, he’s still in the honeymoon phase of his marriage and wouldn’t welcome an interruption late at night. I’m not sure how long it’s supposed to last. For God’s sake, they have a baby, but they’re still lovey-dovey. Sometimes they don’t even act married, more like teenagers being stupid in love.
“Hey, Josh!” A pair of arms wrap around my neck, and a stunning brunette presses her huge, firm tits against my chest. “I missed you,” she coos, long fake lashes fluttering as she looks up at me adoringly. A thin film of sweat covers her otherwise lanky body. The dark mirror behind her reflects her backside. Her ass is rather lacking. Huh. Not Josh’stype.
I tilt my head and gaze at her thoughtfully. Has my twin ever slept with her? “How did you get invited?”
“Barry said I could come. And you did too when I texted you, silly! You said you’d be in a white shirt and black jacket.” Her hand roams over both.
My eyes flick to Josh—no jacket.That asshole.
“Why did you run out like that?” the brunette says, pushing her breasts harder against my chest. “We never got to talk about the next step.”
I lean back and swallow the whiskey. “There’s a next step?”
“Well,duh. Every relationship has a logical next step.” She looks up at me expectantly, like I should know. Except I don’t. The one I thought would go somewhere ended in betrayal. The subsequent ones… Well, they fizzled, like soda left under the SoCal sun for too long.
“Like…?”
“Marriage!”
I cough up my whiskey.Holy shit.How the hell do you go from a casual fuck to marriage in “one logical step”?
“I want to marry well. To a young, handsome, rich guy. I mean, if I have to marry, I might as well marry one who’s got everything, right? Besides, you were amazing in bed. And I think you liked it when I sucked you off. You didn’t complain when—”
“Okay, okay, okay!”Too much information,but then, she seems like the type to overshare. And be very honest about her mercenary needs.
“Don’t make this hard.” She pouts. “I mean, I have a backup, but he’s not as young or handsome. I’d really prefer to marry you.”
I should tell her I’m not Josh, so she can stop before she embarrasses herself further…but now I don’t want to. Not after she so casually told me she has a backup, like she’s proud of keeping some poor guy dangling in reserve. I feel sorry for the man. Most backup guys don’t know they’re backups until it’s too late. Like me in college.
Besides, I don’t want to make things easier for my twin. He and I sometimes mess with each other, but this is going a bit too far. Not only that, he probably got tired of dealing with her, so he’s trying to foist her off on me. That asshole. “You know what? That sounds about perfect.”
She claps her hands. “You agree, right?”
