Man of Honor (Battle Scars #3) - Diana Gardin Page 0,37

searches our faces, clearly confused. I think she thought this was an actual restroom break. The girl has a lot to learn.

I put on my very best innocent expression. “What?”

Berkeley snorts. Literally snorts. “What, my ass. What the hell is going on with you and Drake?”

Greta jumps in. “You two are so…close. Mea…did you sleep with him?”

My innocent friend sounds absolutely scandalized, and if she keeps it up I’ll remind her of every dirty thing she did with Grisham before they were engaged.

“No!” I cross my arms over my chest defensively. “I mean, not recently.”

Greta’s hand flies to her mouth. Berkeley lets out a slew of curses. Olive’s eyes widen with curious shock.

I hold my hands out in front of me. “What I meant was, I haven’t slept with him this time around.”

Berkeley stumbles back a step, her hand on her heart. I roll my eyes at her. “Stop it, Berk. There’s only room for one dramatic friend in this relationship, and it’s me.”

Greta’s deep blue eyes pierce into mine. “Spill it, sister.”

Sighing, I realize I’m not getting out of this one. I’m finally going to have to tell them the truth about Drake. I gather a breath, pull myself up to my full five foot two, and let it fly.

“Three years ago, actually just a couple of months before Dare came to Lone Sands, Drake and I met at his garage and had a one-night-stand.”

Greta shrieks, and Berkeley starts dancing around the restroom like she’s hit the jackpot.

“I knew it!” she squeals. “I always knew something happened between the two of you! There was always this dark, scary sexual tension when you were in a room together.” Her hands are flying around as she talks a mile a minute.

Greta is just as excited, but more reserved with her response. “It’s true. I could never tell if you two were going to start throwing blows, or throw each other down on the floor and fuck.”

Now I’m the one in shock, because Greta almost never says “fuck.” It’s getting real serious in here, apparently. Even Berkeley stops waving her arms around and stares at Greta.

Olive, completely new to this group and to this particular situation, offers me a beaming smile. “Well, he’s hot and you’re hot, so why not? Y’all look beautiful together.”

After a moment of silence, we all burst out laughing. I can tell Olive is going to fit pretty damn well into this group already. The girl is striking. She’s wearing a short dress in the same hue as her name, which looks ridiculously beautiful with her long, sleek burgundy hair. Her skin is alabaster, and her makeup is understated to complement it, with the exception of her dark red lipstick. She’s obviously in shape, with long legs that rival Greta’s, and toned arms. She’s a stunner for sure, and I like her immediately.

I tell the girls about my one wild night with Drake, leaving out the reason I left so suddenly.

“But if it was good, then why have you acted so mean to him all this time?” Greta sounds honestly bewildered, and I don’t blame her.

“He…he broke one of my rules that night. And I just couldn’t deal with seeing him after that. I actually never expected to see him again, except then Dare came and he and Berkeley happened. It was like I couldn’t get away from Drake after that.”

Berkeley nods, her face full of sympathy. We’ve been friends since high school, and although I’ve never opened up to her about my father and what he did to me, I know she’s guessed at the fact that something very bad happened in my childhood that I don’t like to talk about. She’s also familiar with my “rules” when sleeping with a guy.

“Did you tell him the rules beforehand?” she asks softly.

Thinking back, I actually can’t recall if I did or not. Usually, when I go home with a guy, I’m very up front and open about the rules for having sex with me. I make sure they understand and are on board before anything goes down. But that night with Drake…I was so caught up…

“I don’t think I did.” I’m frowning, because it’s so unlike me.

Berkeley smiles sadly. “Then how could you have expected him to follow them?”

I stare at her, struck with how true that question is. I never explained the rules, so the fact that I treated him like shit for years afterward was never fair. I hang my head, and Greta rubs small circles