Page 27 of Conflicted Lies

“Nothing’s happening between them—us,” Hawke and I snap at the same time, and we lock eyes.

Ivy’s smile twists dangerously, and she pushes out her bottom lip. “Awww, is Hawke playing big brother? You never warn men away from me.” She twirls a lock of her hair innocently.

“I need to warn the menaboutyou,” he corrects.

“High praise from the king of manwhores,” she says with a smirk.

“That filthy mouth of yours is really going to get you into trouble someday,” he bites back, still pissed.

“So many empty promises,” she purrs.

Eww.

I blink once. Then twice. What the fuck is happening? “Stop!” I shout, coming between them with hands in both of their faces because I don’t know if they’re about to fight or fuck.

Ivy crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me expectantly. “Is everyone just pairing themselves off lately? Eli, Dutton, Billie, Ford. Like, what the fuck is happening? Have they polluted the water or something?”

“There’s nothing happening between us. I just… might’ve hooked up with him once, and we fell into old habits.”

Hawke’s eyes narrow. “You’vefuckedhim?”

“Oh, come on, Hawke, she’s not an innocent angel. I knew there was a little she-devil in there.” Ivy turns to me and encourages, “I think you should definitely do it again.”

“No,” Hawke adamantly says, and he’s in his power pose—legs shoulder width apart, arms crossed, glaring down at me. It’s rather intimidating to see him when he’s like this. He may have respected my wishes so far, but this might change things.

Without going into detail, so Ivy doesn’t become further interested, I simply say, “It’s not something I intend to repeat.” I want to add I didn’t know who he was the first time, but those bits of information intrigue Ivy far too much. Her father, Will Walker, is well known for his tracking abilities. And the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. However, she’s never revealed to her parents how gifted she is. She pretended to lose interest in it in case she didn’t want to pursue the career path. But she does it on the side for money, among other freelance IT things.

“Besides, weren’t you two having fun? I think I might go home. Those tequila shots really went to my head,” I say. It’s true that the alcohol may be impairing my judgment, but really, these two don’t need me here. And I’d much rather curl up in my bed and read. I also want to try and process what the fuck just happened.

“Noooo. The night’s still young,” Ivy whines, grabbing for my hand. She looks over her shoulder at her reverse harem, and I know she wants to stay. And I’d never stop her.

I laugh and pat her hand. “I can get home on my own. You know I prefer it that way.”

“I’ll call Ford to pick you up,” Hawke offers, taking out his phone and calling his brother. I can’t help but roll my eyes. He was so excited for me to come out tonight, but I know he’s shifted into protector mode. And if that is the best way for me to get home, then I’m completely fine with it.

“You sure?” Ivy asks. “Don’t think you’re getting out of telling me all about Mr. Hottie, who left like a Cinderella story. I want all the gossip.”

I avoid showing any interest in the matter in case Hawke’s temple actually explodes.

Ford doesn’t take long to arrive. He never does. If someone needs help, he’s there the moment they call. Unless, of course, he’s working for Eli. But if Hawke’s out on the town for the night, it means they’re both off duty. Basically, Eli wanted alone time with his wife, Jewel.

And one of the perks of Ford never drinking alcohol is he naturally turns into the designated driver. It’s not common knowledge he doesn’t drink. Only the people in his closest circle and those observant enough to notice he’ll hold a drink but never consume it are aware of it.

When a bouncer helpfully escorts me outside safely because Lord forbid Hawke trust me to do it myself, I see Ford is waiting at the curb.

The bouncer opens the passenger door for me, and I slide into the car. Ford doesn’t generally have a need for high-end luxury, even though he has the money to have such a lifestyle. His car, however, is something he splurged on.

“A detective?” he questions, clicking his tongue. I throw myself into the seat dramatically. Of course, that’s the first thing out of his mouth.

“I’m so going to kill your brother.” It didn’t even take him ten minutes to spread the word.

“You should know better than to tell him anything,” he chides. And I do know better. Hawke has the biggest mouth. Most of the time, he accidentally lets things slip out because he doesn’t think before he speaks. But I know Ford is the only one he will tell about my predicament since I came to both of them for help.

“I know,” I grumble.

“He hasn’t told anyone else. Just me.”

“For now.” I bite my lip, then ask, “Do you think Dad and Auntie Anya will be mad?”

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