Page 144 of Rush the Edge

How much do you owe this time and why are they texting me directly?

He gave them my fucking number? As if I’m his personal ATM?

You give Miles an inch, and he takes a fucking foot. Or in this case, you give him half a million dollars, and he wants a million more.

The door opens.

I’m still squeezing the life out of my phone when I lock onto her blue eyes lined with makeup. I trail my attention down her curvy frame, landing on a slit that hits mid-thigh. The heels she wears make her taller, and all I want to do is pull on the thin string tied around her ankle and throw them off to the side so I can strip the rest of that dress off her.

My heart beats out of my chest the longer I stare. Blood pools below my waist, and I reach my hand out to grip her around her hip so I can kiss her.

As soon as I go to do that, her palm touches my chest to keep me in place.

I scowl, not appreciating that she’s denying me.

“River,” she whispers.

I freeze, like I’m caught red-handed.

I want to go back to that state of denial, where I pretend he’ll be fine with the two of us.

“You got your brass knuckles ready?” River’s large hand grips the door to open it farther. I drop my outstretched hand and adjust the collar of my dress shirt.

Why the fuck is he wearing a suit?

I smooth my expression. “For?”

He glances at Daisy and sighs. “For the necks she’ll break wearing that scrap of a dress.”

“Scrap?” Daisy huffs. “This one has the most fabric out of the three.”

I’d like to see the others.

“You can practically see your underwear with how high it cuts,” River argues.

Daisy crosses her arms, and that enticing glint of defiance sparkles in her eye. “What underwear?”

I cough to hide my real reaction. River turns to me, and I quickly change the subject, all while forcing myself to stop looking at her. “Why are you dressed up? Feeling left out?” I joke.

He gives me a look. “I’m going to whatever the hell you two are going to. Daisy said she needed an escort, and it was too late for her to find a date.”

Slowly, I turn my attention tomydate. “Is that so?”

She won’t meet my eye, but that’s okay, because by the end of the evening, sheabsolutelywill.

I stroll inside the apartment, passing them both, and head for her bedroom.

“What are you doing?” She follows me with her heels clicking against the floor, driving my annoyance up to its highest level.

“Grabbing a dress for my date,” I say nonchalantly.

A line of confusion digs in between her eyebrows. I glance through the crack in her door to see River still near the front door with his back to us, so I lean into her space, inhaling her warm earthy scent.

She jerks backward. “You’re bringing a date?”

“Well, you were my date,” I remind her quietly. “But since you’ve decided to bring a chaperone, I guess I’ll have to find another.”

Daisy blinks, her blue eyes filled with hurt. It’s like getting a puck to the face. “Well, we need a chaperone,” she says in a hushed voice. “You heard him the other day…” She glances away. “We need to stop before one of us gets too invested.”

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