Page 69 of Playing With Danger

“Sophie.” She all but snarled my name.

Nope.

Just a bitch.

I hated her for Hayden.

“Where’s Hayden?”

“Why?”

Holy Hannah.

“Um…just making small talk.”

No longer wanting coffee but also not wanting to allow this bitch to make me feel uncomfortable in my own home, I went straight to the cabinet and grabbed a mug.

I pulled the carafe from the burner but gave her my attention when she softened her tone and answered, “Someone from the clubhouse called and said a box had been delivered yesterday. He went to get it.”

The woman was no longer shooting death rays in my direction. She almost looked excited. Her eyes went from me to the coffee machine then flicked back to me several times. It was creepy. She gave me the heebie-jeebies. I didn’t like her at all.

But still I sucked in a breath and tried again.

“One of the great things about living here. Darrell, the clubhouse manager, keeps an eye on packages for us.”

Her lip started to curl up but she caught herself, and fake as fuck, she smiled.

“That’s great. Don’t let me hold you up.” She tipped her head toward the coffee pot.

Whatever.

This woman was strange and not nice and I hoped Hayden wasn’t planning on keeping her.

I poured my coffee, doctored it up with cream and sugar, and didn’t bother with farewells.

Fifteen minutes later, three emails answered, my stomach protested my coffee intake without food balancing the acid that was now swirling.

I should’ve grabbed a bagel.

I pushed through two more emails, finished my coffee, but could no longer ignore my stomach churning.

And that was how I ended up back in the kitchen with Hayden and Khloe. But I stopped dead when I saw her smiling at him. For a moment I questioned everything. She was very pretty but with her beaming a huge smile at Hayden I got what he saw in her. She looked like a fun, sweet, pretty woman. But when Hayden turned to do something at the stove and she caught sight of me, a flicker of hate flashed in her eyes. Maybe Valentine was right; it was that I was her man’s female roommate. But Hayden would’ve explained there had never been—and never would be—anything beyond friendship.

Again, whatever.

I had shit to do to prepare for my meeting.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I announced. “Just grabbing a bagel then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Hayden turned off the burner, plated the eggs, then glanced at me with narrowed eyes.

“Soph, if you’re hungry I’ll make more eggs.”

God, he was blind.

“No time, Winslow, I got work to do.”

And at this rate if I didn’t get a bagel in my belly I was going to puke.

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