Page 66 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
“It doesn’t matter.”
I shift my weight, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning into one hip, the universal posture of someone calling bullshit.
My feet are burning from the cold, but I hardly care to step back into the warm house at this rate.
I want to know what the hell is going on.
“See, the thing is, people only say ‘it doesn’t matter’ when it actually does. And considering I could hear you all the way from down the hall, I’m gonna go ahead and say it matters.”
Jack’s lips flatten into a hard line.
Reece glances away, his gaze darting toward the firepit, giving him something to focus on other than me.
Liam swallows hard enough I can see the muscle in his throat work overtime.
My patience is gone. “Spit it out. All of you.”
“Holly—” Jack starts.
“No,” I cut him off. “Don’t ‘Holly’ me. Tell me. Right now.”
That’s when Reece says it.
“Did you actually sleep with Liam for money?”
For a heartbeat, my brain doesn’t even process what he’s just said because it’s too much for me to comprehend.
But then it lands.
And when it does, it’s like being punched in the face.
Heat floods my cheeks so fast it’s almost dizzying.
A rush of blood that carries equal parts fury and humiliation.
Anger at him, embarrassment for me, and underneath both is a sour, twisting ache in my stomach that feels a hell of a lot like feeling betrayed.
Because when my gaze darts to Liam he doesn’t meet it.
He doesn’t even try.
His eyes skitter away, fixing on some meaningless spot in the snow instead.
That avoidance is worse than if he’d just look me in the eye and own it. It makes it real.
It makes it mean he told them for some reason without discussing it with me first.
Why did he tell them?
Why would he throw that out there for them to pick apart and use against us both?
Was it to shut Jack up or win some petty argument?
Or was it just Liam acting carelessly?
My throat feels too tight to get anything substantial out, so all I manage is a breathless, “What?”
Reece’s voice is so soft I can barely hear it.
