Page 69 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
“You’d be correct. Don’t act so surprised.” I swat at her arm.
“I’m not surprised by the rule, I’m just surprised you fell for it.” She swats my arm right back and gives me a look that makes me think she’s privy to some type of knowledge that I’m clearly not.
“What does that mean?”
“You guys have been playing Control Wars for what? Two, three weeks?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Don’t you find it awfully convenient that, all of a sudden, he let you call the shots when he’s been vying for the top?”
“Are you saying he played me?” I hate that the coin she’s just put in the slot drops down and hits with a loud, ricocheting clank.
“You’re damn straight he did. Damn brilliantly, too.”
She laughs, and her face has an incredulous expression on it I don’t really feel like recognizing.
The smug bastard.
“Are you complaining about the outcome?” she asks after I sit quietly for a moment.
“Uh, no,” I finally say. How could I complain about the skill of his hands and lips and m
arvelous cock?
“No?”
“Absolutely not,” I assert.
“Then why do you look like you’re about to call him and chew him out?” And she’s right. I feel like doing just that even though there is no reason to because we both got what we wanted out of our little rendezvous, didn’t we?
“I’m not,” I concede.
“Good. You shouldn’t be mad because he one-upped you.”
“Are you trying to rub my nose in it?”
“Nope.” She blows a bubble with her gum and it pops with a smack. “I’m just thrilled that someone finally beat you at your own game.”
“I do believe that’s rubbing my nose in it.”
“Semantics.” She grins with a shrug. “So . . . was all this trouble worth it?” She lifts her eyebrows, and the blush on my cheeks and laugh on my lips tells her all she needs to know.
“Definitely worth it.”
“For a girl all about the orgasm, that says a lot.” There’s the sound of a plane’s prop starting in the distance, and she waits a moment to continue. “We always get sidetracked when it comes to Grant and talk about all the swooniness that is him . . . are you ever going to tell me why the two of you stopped being friends in the first place?”
“No reason.” I rise from my seat and head to the cart where I fiddle with things that don’t need to be fiddled with.
“C’mon. There has to be a reason.”
“I moved away.” It isn’t a lie. “It doesn’t matter. He and I would never work anyway.”
“I didn’t know you wanted it to.”
“I don’t. I mean—It wouldn’t—” I stop talking because I sound like a bumbling fool.
“Why wouldn’t it work?” she asks. All I want her to do is drop it, which I know she won’t. She’s sunk her teeth into the point she’s trying to make and won’t let go until this conversation has played itself out.
