Page 41 of Fool Me

“Is it though?”

“It’s a vanilla base,” she argues.

“It’s fucking delicious and you’re going to be begging for a taste of it,” I say, handing Gerty a twenty and taking the brown bag from him.

With my money clip back in my pocket, I take Harlowe’s hand, ready to head up to the outlook and enjoy the sunset, only to be stopped by Tessa and Briar Kennedy, who are leaving the flower shop next door.

Harlowe drops my hand, giving each of them a hug, and fuck me, I shouldn’t be jealous that they stole her away, but a burning annoyance that her hand is no longer in mine creeps up my arm.

Briar’s eyes widen when she sees me. “Atlas Kane, I was wondering when I’d bump into you. Denver is going to be so pissed that I got to see you first,” she says, mentioning her husband.

I rub at the uncomfortable prickling sensation working its way down my neck. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to get in touch.” Denver was one of my best friends in high school. When everything happened with Fiona and Canyon, I kind of lost touch with everyone. Working through the anger and shame over how they played me took time. There were so many nights when I picked up the phone to call Denver, but it felt like too much time had passed. Like explaining myself would put me right back into the toxic space I ran from. “Wasn’t sure if his number had changed.”

Her lips twist into a sardonic grin that screamsdon’t bullshit a bullshitter.

Embarrassed, but wanting to make amends, I chuckle. “Yeah, probably not. Not much has changed since I left and we both know he’s stubborn as a mule. Tell me you at least got him to change his hair.”

She laughs and this time it’s genuine and warm like I remember. “It was a condition of marrying him. The mullet went, or I did,” Briar jokes, seemingly not holding a grudge for what a shitty friend I was to her husband.

“I’ll call him this week,” I promise.

Harlowe’s gaze strays from her conversation with Tessa every so often. I know she’s going to have questions—something tells me she always does.

“Where are you guys headed?” Tessa asks.

“Oh. I’m not sure exactly,” Harlowe says, looking at me.

“The overlook.”

“Denver and I used to head up there all the time,” Briar says, and I can’t help but notice the sadness in her eyes. She might be smiling, but there’s a longing there too. Regret swells that I’ve lost touch with them enough that I have no business asking if she’s okay—ifthey’reokay.

Next to her, the Olympian’s gaze sweeps over her sister-in-law’s face, her lips turning down, like she sees it too.

“We’ll let you go before your ice cream melts,” Briar says.

They head in the opposite direction of where they’re parked.

My hand is on the handle to open the door for Harlowe when I catch a reflection in the window. I have every intention of ignoring my brother and pretending I didn’t see him when he opens his damn mouth.

“So, this is still a thing?” He sets his bag of groceries on the hood of my truck, his eyes swinging to Harlowe, and I step forward, putting myself between them. My blood boils. I don’t want him anywhere near her, but I also don’t want to cause a scene that’s sure to attract the negative attention she’s hoping to avoid with her promotion on the line.

“Move along, Canyon. We just want to enjoy our night.” Somehow I keep my voice level and calm.

“I’d like to hear Harlowe speak for herself.”

He looks around me and I shift my weight. “Get out of here.”

“Don’t be shy now. The girl I remember was loud and a little wild.” He shifts his focus to me. “Maybe you’re not doing a good job if she’s this quiet around you.”

Canyon fucking winks, and I have to press my feet into the ground and ball my hands at my sides to stop myself from grabbing him by the shirt for that remark. Not because I care about what he’s insinuating about me, but for the callous disrespect toward Harlowe.

My feet start to move, but Harlowe’s sharp intake of breath rings in my ears, a subtle command leashing my rage.

“It’s a scientific fact that fake orgasms are louder than real ones,” she hisses back at him, her voice low with barely-contained venom. “Maybe that’s what you’re remembering,” she adds with a shrug.

My shoulders shake as I fight to control the sudden laughter trying to break free. I’m not sure why I thought Harlowe needed me to step in. She’s strong as fuck and mad as hell—a woman who needs no one. That she’s choosing to spend time with me, even as a ploy, is dumb luck.

My brother’s mouth snaps shut and when he opens it again, I speak up, because whatever he’s about to say isn’t worth hearing. I stick by what I said, but she shouldn’t have to face him alone. Not any more.

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