Page 92 of Hard to Hold

His words feel like whiplash and I chuckle. “I thought you told me that first night I wasn’t what he needed. Remember how I was offended by that?”

“That’s because you were a woman on the prowl wanting to get laid.”

“Screw you.” I roll my eyes and then laugh, because it was so true.

“And now . . . I don’t know. You guys are just good together. Maybe . . . who knows?”

I stare at my oldest friend and hear his words. Words that reflect the same thing I feel, that Rush and I are just good together, and then groan in frustration. “He won’t talk about it with me.”

“Ahh,” Johnny hums, knowing I’m talking about Esme without saying her name. “Is that the cause of the sudden chill between you two?”

“It’s not a chill, it’s a . . . fuck if I know. How can I really “in like” a man who doesn’t trust me?”

“The question is, do you trust him?”

How stupid am I that I instinctively want to say yes?

But it’s true.

I do trust him. I trust in the things he’s said to me and the cryptic things he’s not said.

And I think that’s part of what’s giving me pause. I don’t trust freely and yet with Rush . . . I just do.

I tread carefully with my words, so I don’t betray what Rush confided in me the other night. But I also know that Johnny doesn’t suffer fools nor put up with assholes, so just the fact that he’s allowing Rush to stay here tells me he clearly believes Rush is innocent as well. “I think there’s more to the story. I think that sometimes it’s easier to fall back on a reputation or the image of yourself than to answer truthfully.”

“We think alike,” he says cryptically. “I know the owner of the magazine that first printed the picture. I offered to Rush to reach out to them and . . . I don’t know. Sue them. Get the rest of the pictures the magazine acquired if there were any. Something to defend his name.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me to leave well enough alone.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

RUSH

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

This quiet game she’s playing needs to be done and over with. It’s literally driving me mad.

To sleep in the same bed with a woman every night, but then wake up and have her act like you’re nonexistent is fucking insane.

Like ten minutes ago. She’s talking to some blokes about recruiting for individual teams and when I walk up, she smiles softly, and then introduces me into the conversation before quietly exiting.

What the fuck is up with that?

This is not the right time to do this. Talks are at a standstill between Finn and the club, and I’m in a shitty mood over it. And to make matters worse, the one person I want to turn to, isn’t exactly talking to me.

So yes, this has to end. Right here. Right now. She wants to be pissed at me because I can’t tell her about Rory and Esme, fine. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to live like this for the next month as we play out this bloody contract.

“Lennox?” I ask when I see Maggie, one of the assistants who is always wandering around doing a little bit of everything.

“I think she went out to get some air.”

I point down the hall to ask if it’s the right way and head in that direction when I get a nod. “Thanks.”

I push open the doors to the outside and stop. Lennox is standing there with her back to me, her hands braced on the railing, and her face lifted up to the sky. Fairy lights twinkle everywhere in the trees and reflect off her hair and dress.

Much like she was that night before she turned and seduced me in the sauna.