I sighed. Frankly, I was exhausted. Between redoubling my efforts to nail Hugo to the wall, I now had to carve time out of my packed schedule to go out to dinner and parties I didn’t want to go to with women I had no interest in.
If Hugo had targeted Sloane because of me, he was going to get the message loud and clear. Sloane Walton meant nothing to me. She was just one woman in a long line of meaningless conquests.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I admitted. “Hugo is looking a little too closely at me. I’m doing what I can to confuse him.”
I automatically flipped my phone over and checked for new messages. There were none fromher. Not that I would expect it. I’d had to burn that bridge to keep us both safe. But now that I’d had her, now that I knew how my name sounded from that mouth when she came, this surgical excision of me from her life was driving me insane.
She couldn’t just cut me out completely. Not when we shared our small circle of friends and a property line. Not that I wanted anything to do with her, I reminded myself.
“I worry about you, Lucian,” Emry announced.
I looked up, baffled. “Why?”
“I worry that you prioritize winning over happiness, and I don’t know if you’ll be satisfied with winning at the expense of everything else.”
34
A Good Old-Fashioned Ass Kicking
Lucian
Life’s fuckin’ funny sometimes,” Knox mused.
We were occupying the corner of Honky Tonk’s bar on an unseasonably warm March night. I’d been summoned to Knockemout by Nash and Knox, who seemed unnecessarily concerned that I was in the midst of some midlife crisis. Stef and Jeremiah had tagged along for the Shiraz.
Lina’s firing had been reversed—as soon as I realized I couldn’t actually handle the workload alone—and I’d been reasonably polite to everyone at work today. They had nothing to worry about.
“In what way?” I asked, not particularly caring.
Spring was in the air. It made me want to drink until I couldn’t see straight. It was my first time back in town since my last time with Sloane, and every damn thing in this fucking place reminded me of her.
“The three of us growin’ up, raisin’ hell. Gettin’ in trouble. Now look at us.”
“Three grown men still raising hell?” Stef guessed.
“You should have seen them in high school,” Jeremiah teased. “It’s a miracle this town is still standing.”
Nash’s mouth quirked. “Now we’re almost respectable.”
“And we’ve got women too good for us.” Knox shot me a pointed look. “Well, two outta three.”
“Way too damn good for us,” Nash agreed.
Knox raised his glass. “May they never come to their senses.”
I ignored the toast. But I couldn’t ignore the train of thoughts it ignited.
My life was now divided cleanly. Before Sloane and After Sloane. I should have felt better by now. I was keeping her safe by keeping my distance. Something I should have done from the beginning. Something I always seemed to be incapable of. But I’d done the right damn thing. So why the fuck did I feel so damn knotted up inside?
Even now, I was watching the door, willing her to appear. And then what? Would she continue to freeze me out? Or would she direct her fiery temper at me?
“Where are these way too good for you women tonight?” I asked.
“If you’re trying to get information on Sloane’s whereabouts, it’s not coming from us,” Nash said.
The bearded Morgan brother shrugged. “You fucked it up, you fix it. And since you didn’t come to us before you fucked it up, we sure as shit aren’t helping you fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix,” I insisted. “We had a good time. We’re done having a good time.”