Page 23 of Unmasked Rivalry
“You don’t get to use me to forget about her,” I snap, voice shaking, “and you sure as hell don’t get to use me to forget about yourself.”
He doesn’t stop me when I duck under his arm and disappear down the hall, slamming my bedroom door behind me. The sound echoes in my bones. I collapse onto the old air mattress, heart pounding, tongue still tingling with the taste of him.
Let the storm rage. Let the house leak. Let everything fall apart.
I’m too tired to put it back together tonight.
“WAKEY WAKEY.”
Mera’s sing-song voice fills the room, and it takes me a moment to focus. I open my eyes, and immediately the sun blasts into them, making me groan and throw a hand over my face. I roll to my side, mumbling something even I don’t understand, but am quickly brought back to reality when Mera takes the blanket and jerks it off me.
“God damn,” I moan, sitting up, hair a mess, glaring at her.
She’s not alone; she’s with Nia and Sable, and they’re both grinning at me, coffee in hand, a brown paper bag filled with something delicious.
“We’re here to work, and the club is, too. They’re out fixing fences and your roof because girl, your kitchen is wet,” Sable shoots me a grin.
The club?
They brought the club.
Memories of last night flash across my mind, of the kiss, the discovery, and every other emotion I felt. I press my lips together, pushing it aside.
“Fine, I’m up,” I grumble, reaching for the coffee as Mera hands it to me, wickedly delighted by her own ability to torture me before my first caffeine dose. I fumble with the cup, nearly sloshing it on my face.
I lean forward, peering out the window over the rim of the cup and, sure enough, there’s a swarm of guys out there stomping through my weedy yard with nothing but jeans, boots, and tool belts. Sable is right, they’ve brought the club. And oh, what a sight they are.
“It’s a full work party,” Nia says, poking through the bag. “Donut?”
I grab one, stuff half in my mouth, then mumble, “What time is it?”
“Eleven,” Mera says, grinning.
I glare, but can’t hold it long.
Sable opens the window, and the smell of cut grass and cigarette smoke comes wafting in. It’s weirdly comforting. We gather around the window like old ladies ogling the neighbor mowing his lawn. Hot men, all tattoos, some dragging ladders, others hauling planks, and every single one a ridiculous, unapologetic display of muscle per square inch.
“So,” Mera says, giving me a look, “Are you going to tell us why you just looked at Knox like that, or do we have to guess?”
I huff, walking out of the room and into the wet kitchen, trying to avoid the question.
“You can’t hide,” Nia calls, following me.
I groan. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated is for pussies,” Sable jokes, placing her coffee down and staring around at the papers scattered all over the floor, half of which are now damp. “What the hell happened in here last night?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I start tidying up, swatting at crumbs on the counter, but the distraction only lasts until Nia twirls me around and puts both hands on my shoulders. “Tell us, woman, or we’ll go ask him.”
I shoot her a glare.
“Fine. If you must know, Knox kissed me.”
Dead silence.
Even Sable’s jaw drops open, so wide the donut nearly falls out. Nia blinks at me, and Mera immediately shrieks, “No way.”
