Shaken (Twisted Fox #2) - Charity Ferrell Page 0,48

drops off our drinks, and he mutters a quick thanks. Tonight, I’m seeing a different Cohen, one I’ve never seen. Cohen is the most grown-up of our group and usually put together. He doesn’t make drastic decisions and never allows his emotions to get the best of him.

“How was it?” I push.

Damn, he’s pulling a me with the not opening up.

Is this how people feel when they try to get an answer out of me?

“We didn’t fuck,” he finally grinds out.

“Something happened, though.”

He doesn’t deny anything.

“How was it?”

“Fucking wrong. That’s what it was.”

“Wrong because there was no connection, or wrong because of who she is to you?”

He shoots back his drink, slams the glass onto the bar, and calls over the bartender for another.

“Wrong because of who she is to you, I take it.”

“She’s my son’s aunt.” He works his jaw. “Hell, he doesn’t even know she’s his aunt. She’s my ex’s sister. Her family attempted to take my son away from me, and now, I’m fucked. If Noah loses her, it’ll break his goddamn heart. All because of my stupidity.”

I refrain from asking what happened.

From asking for the details.

Sure, I’ll give advice, but I won’t make you pour your heart out to me to get it.

“What are the reasons it could be right between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“Yet you still hooked up.”

He glares at me.

I shrug, grab my drink, and take a sip. “You’re attracted to her. There’s something there. Go for it.”

If only I’d take my own advice.

I’m a goddamn hypocrite.

“Attraction doesn’t always mean it’s a good idea.”

I tip my glass his way. “True.” Hear, fucking, hear.

My phone rings, and I gulp when Georgia’s name flashes across the screen. I quickly silence it but not fast enough.

He side-eyes me. “Why’s my sister calling you?”

I shove the phone into my pocket. “Who knows? Probably to yell at me or ask me about work.”

I called her because I can’t get her out of my head.

I called her because I’m just as confused about my feelings for your sister as you are with Jamie.

“I didn’t know you had each other’s numbers.”

“We work together.” I gulp down my drink. “Look, you’re my friend. The situation you’re in is weird, and I don’t blame you for not crossing a line, but I can’t tell you what to do.” I poke his shoulder. “Only you know how far you want to take it, how much you want her, how fucking broken you’ll be if you lose her. Whatever your choice, just remember, it’s on you. Either way, I’ll support you, but in the end, I hope whatever you choose makes you happy.”

Practice what you fucking preach.

My phone rings again, vibrating in my pocket, and I ignore it, hoping my guilt isn’t clear on my face.

The bartender returns with another round, and we knock them back together. When Cohen decides to finally head back to the cabin, I tell him good-bye and good luck.

Then I sit there and run the advice I gave him back through my head.

How can I tell one person to do everything I should be doing myself?

Time passes until I can no longer take it. I drag my phone from my pocket to text her.

Me: Can I stop by?

Three bubbles appear underneath my message.

Then disappear.

Then appear again.

Georgia: Sure.

I stand from the stool and walk to her cabin.

.

24

Georgia

“What are you doing?” Lola asks when I stand from the couch, grab my shoes, and slip them on.

“I need a breath of fresh air,” I lie.

“A breath of fresh air?” she slowly repeats my words. “I call bullshit.”

I sigh. “Archer is outside and wants to talk.”

“That’s trouble,” Grace whispers from her chair, snuggled in her blanket.

“Babe, you need to be careful,” Lola says. “I love you, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Grace nods. “Agreed.”

My heart seemed to freeze when I read Archer’s text, asking to come over.

At the bar, when we’d talked, it was hell for me. My stomach dropped as I pleaded, fighting to hold back tears, for him not to bring a woman back to his cabin. Meanwhile, Calvin was standing in the doorway, waiting to come back to ours. The thing was, Calvin coming back to my cabin didn’t mean anything. I hadn’t wanted him, and twenty minutes after he got here, I told him I was tired, and he left.

I shrug, as if my head isn’t spinning. Archer never goes out of his way to be alone with me. It’s always been forced, at work, or when we’re with friends.