Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,62

no one is.

Most of all, I want to kiss her until her calmness, her steadiness, her damn unselfish caring washes over me like a cool wave.

Tris’s accusation comes back. That I'm falling for her.

I've seen the fallout from love, the unhealthy dependence, the way love can bring artificial joy and leave you an empty shell, capable of nothing.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” she asks when we’re on the bridge. “We could go to that restaurant again."

I imagine being on that rooftop with her. Sitting beside her, tugging her against my hip. Sliding my hand down the inside of her thigh, not to turn her on but to reassure myself she’s really there with me and not going anywhere.

I shake my head. “I have to get back to work. But I can drop you off.”

She shifts in her seat. “Okay. I’ll get something for Lil.”

But her voice is cooler than it was.

"Say hello to Cara for me," I say when she gets out at the restaurant, but she doesn't answer as she shuts the car door.

Heading back to my apartment, the life I designed my way, I wait for a feeling of relief that I’m on my own again.

It never comes.

21

The best poker games aren't only in casinos. I promised to drop by Hunter's weekly game to fill in. It's at his and Kendall's place, with few old friends, and it's been going on as long as Daisy and I've been having our own game nights.

Today the other players are Monty—Hunter's conscience, and the lumberjack-in-a-suit Hunter runs his family's beer company with—and Wes.

I've heard rumors of some of the dramatic stakes of these games over the years. Apparently they've toned down since Hunter got settled, because he's become more responsible by leaps and bounds in the past year.

"Where're Kendall and Rory tonight?" I ask as I grab a drink from the full-stocked bar in the penthouse condo and drop into my seat.

"I got them a cooking class that runs the entire month. Kid could probably teach them," Hunter says, his voice full of pride, "but he likes showing off for his mom. Surprised you're not working or with your girlfriend tonight."

Monty cocks his head in question.

"Daisy," Hunter says.

"Huh." He lifts his glass in a toast.

I shrug. "Taking a couple nights off."

They stare me down.

“Bullshit,” Wes comments mildly. “You’ve been dating a few weeks and you could be with her but you chose us instead.”

"You fucked up, didn't you?" Hunter asks.

"What are you talking about?"

Wes leans in. "When was the last time you talked?"

"Two days ago.”

“How’d it end?”

I survey my cards, strategizing. "We went to see my mom. After, we were going to get dinner, but I told her to go alone because I had to work."

A chorus of groans goes up.

I drop the cards on the table, exasperated. "What?"

"You fucked up. You're going to need to fix it," Monty says.

It seems like an overreaction, especially since he doesn’t even know us. "I could text her right now. She'd text me back."

I pull out my phone, along with Jet, and I set him on the table. I take a picture of him with the cards and send it.

The men watch silently as I reach for my cards. “Come on.”

But a hand later, there’s no response.

The feeling in my gut is hard to name—it’s unfamiliar but it sucks. As if I’m second-guessing myself.

I never do that.

I type out a text.

Ben: Was Hunter always this cocky? I can see why he wagered his company at the poker table.

Still no answer.

I shift back in my chair. "She's probably climbing or with her sister."

"Sure, she is," Wes says.

"She's my best friend, and I know her."

"She's not some prick at the office you can steamroll," Hunter offers. "And she's not your friend anymore either. You have to think twice before you say some shit. It'll come back to bite you."

“Daisy’s not mad. We don’t fight, and she’s not the kind of woman to lose her shit over something trivial I said or did.”

But there’s no response to my text, which has me rewinding the time we spent with Mom, the minutes after.

Damn her for making me overthink this, and damn these guys too.

Wes nods in agreement with Hunter. "You have to be prepared for an overcorrection in the system. A small error in judgment on your part can cause severe consequences, and there are two ways to come back from it."

"One," Hunter says, "call her bluff. Remind her she misses you. That one's high