Page 17 of The Friend Situation

A flirty smirk dances on her pretty, kissable lips, hinting at her seductive spirit. She enjoys me being here—I can tell.

“The most expensive bottle of wine you have. With two glasses, please?” she asks, then glances at me.

“Make it three glasses,” I say, breaking the tension surrounding us. “She forgot to request a glass for the finance guy.”

“What’s his fucking problem?” Trever mutters, his voice bitter.

“He’s just being polite,” Carlee interjects, her tone calm and confident. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I don’t know which of us she’s reassuring, but it feels like that last part was directed towardme.

Flecks of gold dance in her irises, capturing the light.

Am I worried?Absolutely not.

Trever’s disrespect and what he said on the phone gnaw at me.

“Yeah, I think he does have a problem,” Trever continues, his agitation obvious as he leans forward, his arms crossed defiantly.

“I don’t have a problem.Yet.” I turn to him, keeping my tone sharp and cool. “I can ruin your life with one phone call, so don’t fuck with me, little boy. Calm down and enjoy your date, if that’s what you call this.”

Carlee’s a player in this game. If this were baseball, she’d be in the major leagues—graceful, strategic, and in absolute control. She’s no damsel in distress, and she doesn’t need rescuing. But I’d bet my entire inheritance that when she walked through that door, Double-E Trever wasn’t a passing thought. There was only one man on her mind.

“Is that a threat?” Trever asks, his eyes narrowing in challenge.

He’s too stupid to understand it’s a promise.

I glare at him like I’m the Grim Reaper. In less than five minutes, I could unearth everything about him—his background, his ambitions, and his family. That silly little finance job he clings to? I could buy the company right now and fire his ass first thing in the morning without giving it a second thought.

He leans closer to Carlee, his fingers brushing along the exposed skin on her back. Thinking about his grubby little hands on her makes my jaw clench.

“Do you want to get out of here? We can go somewhere more private and finish our conversation,” Trever whispers. “I think I’m falling for you.”

She immediately stills, and her demeanor changes in a snap.

“No, no,” she says, pulling away from his grasp. She’s so close we touch.

The brief contact between her body and mine sends an inferno raging through me, igniting desires I’ve learned to ignore.

Why am I here again?

“I forgot I promised my best friend I’d meet up with her at eight thirty,” Carlee explains sweetly, her voice a melody that doesn’t defuse his annoyance.

I glance down at my watch, noting the cruel passage of time. It’s a waste of precious minutes we’ll never get back.

Trever growls with frustration, the sound feral. “I thought you were freeallnight? Isn’t that what you told me?”

I don’t like his fucking tone with her. It’s laced with entitlement and anger, which only amplifies my need to protect her.

“I wanted to see you,” she says, her honesty cutting through the fog of the situation.

Her expression is final, and she’s done playing cat and mouse with this man. Just as her lips part to say more, a twenty-year-old bottle of merlot is set on the bar top like a trophy.

Carlee studies it.

“How much is this?” I ask.

“Ten thousand,” the bartender replies.

---