“Butifthere is, you can explore that with him,” I insist, needing her to know that. “You deserve happiness, too, and if Rogue’s big, pierced dick brings you that, then?—”
Her face falls with mortification, which makes it incredibly hard not to laugh at her.
“Shut the fuck up, youcabrona,” she mutters, tearing her hand from my grip, albeit playfully.
I laugh. “So let me guess. Whatever Rogue bet you, you failed miserably.”
Her expression darkens before twisting into a sour look, like there’s a bad taste in her mouth. “He cheated,” she mumbles petulantly, looking away.
My inner brows curl upward, feigning a sympathetic look. “I remember my first lie to myself, too.”
She points the butter knife at me. “Vete pal carajo.”
I cackle, but before she can threaten me any further, Rogue reappears.
“Good to know it’s not just me she threatens,” he drawls, sitting across from her again.
This time, when she glances at him, there’s a certain wariness in her gaze, as if she’s afraid she might actually get sucked into his orbit.
She may never allow herself to, purely out of a sense of loyalty to me, but she’s only deluding herself if she thinks what’s between them isn’t on a molecular level.
It can’t be explained, and eventually, she’ll learn it can’t be ignored forever, either.
She sets down the butter knife—for now—and turns to him with a narrowed stare. Propping her elbows on the table, she lays her fingers over each other and rests her chin on them, adopting a prim interrogating stance.
“So, what’s going on with your bestie? Does he often fuck girls in crematory ovens, or is Reverie special?”
Panic widens my eyes. I do not want to talk about this.
“Oh no,” Rogue mutters, looking between the two of us with alarm. He holds up his hands in surrender yet again. “Icannotgossip with you two. Leave me out of this shit, I beg of you.”
“Yeah, I agree,” I pipe up, shooting Sable a ‘shut the fuck up’ look.
She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, she narrows her eyes again, a clear threat. “Dread has muscles, but I have science, and I’m very well equipped at using it.”
Rogue’s expression falls, and he turns a look to me, something akin to a pleading puppy dog.
I throw out my hands incredulously, emoting my exasperated state.
“I’m struggling here, too, my guy,” I say.
He throws his head back with a groan before dropping his chin in defeat. “I’m an empty well of knowledge, okay? I don’t know all the places Dread has fucked a chick before. All I can tell you is that he hasn’t fucked very many.”
Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes, not believing that claim for a second.
“You know what?” I say, putting my hands on the table. “It doesn’t even matter.”
“Yeah, okay, Linkin Park. Itdoesmatter,” Sable interjects, sass dripping from her tone.
“Look,” Rogue sighs, settling a tired stare on Sable, “I’ve already told you how I think Dread feels, and you didn’t believe me.”
I frown.
“It’s long been established that Reverie is special,” he finishes.
“Then why has he ghosted her since he’s been gone? Usually, you can’t pry him out of her asshole.”
So eloquent.
