Page 61 of Cruel Promise
I frown, glancing at my closet.
“What?”
“A dress. Do you have a dress? Something formal.”
“Uh, yeah. I think so —“ I don’t have a lot of reasons to dress up, but even I have a little black dress. Mom says they’re a staple, and when I turned sixteen, she bought me one. I’ve been the same size since freshman year, so I know it still fits.
“Good. Get ready. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Wait. What? “What do you mean you’ll be here in fifteen minutes? You’re on the team, too. Don’t you have to be at the McIntire dinner? You can’t just leave.”
He curses under his breath. “Kasey, there is no way in hell I’m going to stand around at this bullshit dinner while you’re home alone and this idiot is parading around with some other chick.”
An uncomfortable ache stabs me in my chest.
“Get ready. I’m picking you up, and that asshole can eat crow when he sees you as my date.”
“Slow down,” I sputter. “That is a terrible idea.” Not that I wouldn’t love to see the look on Dominique’s face when I show up on Deacon’s arm, but he has to know this will come back and bite him in the ass. “We only recently got you out of his line of fire, remember? And besides, don’t you have a date?”
“I don’t care, and no, I don’t have a date,” he says, taking me by surprise. “Me and a few of the guys came stag to chill with one another.”
“Why?” The girls here throw themselves at football players left and right and Deacon, despite being a freshman, gets just as much attention as the upperclassmen. He could have had his choice of dates.
With an annoyed huff, he says, “Because I figured the one chick I’d want to bring was spoken for. Turns out, I was wrong.”
Oh.
I swallow hard and think about it. Like seriously think about it. It’s immature of me to go only to what, make Dominique jealous? I’d be taking advantage of Deacon’s kindness for petty revenge, assuming it would even work.
“He’s your brother,” I remind him. If he wants to have a relationship with Dom, I can’t keep getting in the way. “Do you want to risk pissing him off?”
I’m not deluded into thinking Dominique will see me there and realize he has feelings for me like some storybook fairytale. He’s made his intentions clear. But he is possessive, and something about Deacon gets under his skin.
Me being there won’t bother him for the right reasons. But it will piss him off. It’s enough. But only if Deacon knows what he’s getting himself into. What he’s putting at risk.
“He’s not my brother. He’s just some asshole who shares half my DNA and, frankly, the fucker needs to learn a lesson.”
“Okay. I’ll get ready.” Dread mixed with anticipation prickles against my skin.
“Good. I’m already on my way. You’ve got twelve minutes, sweetheart. Tick tock.”
TWENTY
DOMINIQUE
We’ve been here less than an hour and already I want to leave. Clustered beside me are my mother, sister, and two women I don’t know, but who are clearly important to my mother. Tamara speaks with them, playing her part as the doting girlfriend with her hand on my arm as she laughs at something one of the woman says and keeps their attention, ensuring I’m left the fuck alone.
I hate things like this. The forced small talk and the fake smiles. I’ve had enough, but we'll have to endure at least an hour or two more.
“Spring would be lovely,” my mother coos. “Don’t you think?”
There’s a lull in conversation and I realize my mother is waiting for an answer. “Spring?” What is she going on about?
“For the wedding,” my mother says.
“We haven’t—“ Tamara says, but my mother steamrolls right over her. Politely, of course. Sheridan Price is well versed in social etiquette, so you wouldn’t know that her shrill laugh is how she cuts people off, paving the way for her to interject.
“Yes, dear, I know. But it’s been three years. Don’t let him fool you. Dominique has something in mind, don’t you dear.”
