That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(47)

I don’t want to lose that.

But will I still have to?

“So what are you saying?” Brig asks, growing serious. “Are you going to break up with Eve?”

“No,” I answer quickly, my chest aching at the thought. “I mean, I don’t want to.”

“But if you have to?” Rogan’s brow pinches together.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” I set my sandwich down and grip the back of my neck just as there’s another knock at the door. Is Jen joining the party? “Come in!” I shout.

The door opens, and it’s a girl all right, but it’s not my sister. It’s Eve. Speak of the devil. As her eyes sweep the room, she winces and stays in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were all here. I can leave.”

“Nah,” Griffin says, standing up quickly. “We were just heading out.”

“Oh, yup, we were leaving.” Rogan stands too, his bad leg giving him a bit of trouble before he escapes the deep, old cushions.

“What?” Brig looks around, confused. “I wasn’t done. We were just getting to the good stuff. I want to know what—”

“Unless you want to walk home, we’re leaving,” Griffin says in his big brother voice, which used to terrify us. Now it’s barely a blip on the radar—but still effective because Brig stands, grumbling something under his breath, and puts his jacket and shoes on with Griffin and Rogan. Half-eaten sandwiches in hand, they all give me a quick wave and take off up the dock to their parked car, leaving me alone with Eve, who’s biting her lip, confused.

As the door closes behind my brothers, a pang of regret hits me all at once. Here I am with this woman who has practically taken over my brain, and I was just talking about her as if I could let her go. What was I even thinking?

“They didn’t have to leave. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were talking about.”

“It’s fine.” I beckon her with my finger. She takes off her coat and walks over to me, and with a tug, I pull her down on my lap and cup her jaw. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” she answers with a furrow to her brow.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Just concerned, that’s all. I mean, I haven’t heard from you all day, and then when I come over, all your brothers are giving you what looked like an intervention. Is everything okay? Are we okay?”

“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “Everything’s fine.” The lies flow before I can stop myself.

“What did your dad want to talk to you about? Was it a Willy proposition?” She smiles, but it barely reaches her eyes. Mine barely reaches as well.

This was the moment I’ve been dreading ever since my dad and I talked—and why I’ve been avoiding Eve all day: I just can’t decide if I should tell her about my dad’s proposition, especially since my answer is still up in the air. Not to mention the fact that her brother is involved as well. And now, confronted with her uncertain gaze, I realize that even though we’re together, this is something I don’t think I can talk to her about. Not right now—not when I don’t even know what I’m doing yet.

So I stroke her back and say, “Just some new investment he’s doing—he wanted to get my opinion.” Not entirely a lie, just not the full truth. “The boys came over because they wanted to share a meatball sub. We haven’t had one together in a while.” I hold up the sub to her. “Want a bite?”

She studies me, and in her eyes I see the questions starting to brew, the suspicion that I’m holding something back. She glances down at the sub and then takes it.

I can feel the moment a small fissure fractures the space between us, born from my little lie of omission. She knows it; I know it—I just hope it doesn’t do too much damage.

“I love a good meatball,” she says before taking a bite, but her voice isn’t the same; her excitement isn’t there. She knows me too well, knows that what I just told her isn’t the full truth.

The question is, Will she ever call me out on it?

I sure as hell hope not.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





EVE


“He’s lying to me,” I say, falling back on my bed and looking up at my apartment’s cracked and chipped ceiling.

“What?” Avery says, her voice over the phone scratchy from the early hour.

I haven’t been able to sleep the past few days, not since Reid had his conversation with his dad. He was off that night, and though I could tell he was trying to be normal, his laughter wasn’t genuine, and his attention was never completely there.

And we didn’t have sex.

He said he just wanted to cuddle instead.

Sweet, I know, but that’s not Reid. He’s stripping me down every chance he can get. Even when he visits me at work, he tries to take me to the back to do naughty things—as he likes to say. He’s rabid when it comes to sex, so when I started to peel off my clothes for him, and he just pulled me in close, claiming he wanted to hold me instead . . . that was my first major warning sign.

From there, it’s gotten worse. A claim that he was too busy to meet up, missed text messages, and a quick phone call last night, telling me he was going out of town and that he would hopefully see me when he gets back.