Page 62 of Renegade Rift

“She said something about you killing her character.” Paige shrugs. “Whatever that means.”

I tilt my head, considering. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“So you’re a murderer?” Paige wiggles her eyebrows, and her lips split in a sinister smile. “While I’m all for the morally gray in my romance books,I’m not sure I want my best friend living with someone capable of such violence.”

“Damn it. Don’t tell me you’re part of the smut club too.”

“Oh, I’m the president. And Etta is my vice president.”

“Willow is going to love you guys,” I mutter, knowing damn well that as soon as any of the wives catch wind of their reading habits, they’ll be invited to join the book club the wives and girlfriends like to pretend doesn’t exist. But the guys all know. They meet and discuss their dirty romances, and we get together and have a drink. Then once it’s over, all the married or otherwise attached guys disappear, knowing damn well they are getting laid after their significant others have been talking about smut all night.

“Can’t wait to meet her,” Paige says. “She seems like a real badass.”

“She is.”

“But back to the murder.” Paige sits back and crosses one leg over the other, resting her hands on top like she’s a therapist waiting to strike with the hard hitting questions. “Do I need to be worried for my best friend’s life?”

I huff sarcastically. “She meant I’m going to kill her D&D character. I’m the Dungeon Master.”

She shakes her shoulders. “Etta said you were nerdy, but that sounds kinda kinky.”

“I fucking cannot,” I mutter under my breath, absolutely tired of this conversation. “Speaking of Etta, when is she supposed to be home?”

“An hour ago.”

“Shit.” I glance over at the clock and see it’s now five o’clock. “What time was she supposed to meet this guy? Where did they go? If she was supposed to be back, why haven’t you gone looking for her?”

“Whoa.” Paige lifts her hands, palms toward me. “Calm down, Captain America.”

I almost correct her and say she’s got the wrong Avenger, but I stop myself when I remember only Etta calls me Hulk. And even then, it’s only when she’s irritated with me.

“They went for coffee. I have her location, and she told me they decided to walk home instead of grabbing a cab.”

I turn away from Paige and exhale, not fully convinced we shouldn’t be out there looking for Juliet. I’m not sure I’ll be fully okay until I have eyes on her.

Damn it. What is wrong with me? I’ve never been this protective of anyone. Even my mom. Sure, I punched Earl in the face for her and got her out of that situation, but I didn’t feel like I couldn’t breathe not knowing if she was safe.

This is something else.

I bring my hand to my chest, feeling the racing of my heart beneath my skin.

This is what she does to me.

“In case you are wondering.” I didn’t hear Paige get up from the couch or cross the room, but now she’s standing beside me, smiling. “This”—she gestures at me—“is how I know you want her.”

“How?”

“You’re jealous as shit she went on that date. Angry that she didn’t tell you. But at the end of the day, you don’t care as long as you know she’s safe. She could probably come home and tell you she’s marrying this guy, and you’ll smile and tell her you’re happy for her even though it’s going to kill you inside.”

“Do you know something I don’t about how this date went?” Because despite Paige’s absolutely accurate description on how that situation would go down, I don’t exactly want to be here to see it play out.

“No, Goldie.”

I balk. “Goldie.”

“Golden Retriever.” She says it like it’s obvious. “I think you’re safe from having to lie about your deep infinite love for my best friend. Etta texted a while ago saying it wasn’t going to work out because while he’s nice, pasta is his favorite food so it could never be a true love match.”

“Good thing my favorite food is sushi.”

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