The Risk (Briar U #2)(74)

ME: OK, I’ll wait. I miss your face.





* * *



AUDREY: Aw love you, boo. See you soon.





“Brenna Jensen?”

I lift my head to see the stink-eye girl from the counter. She’s two feet away now, and her expression hasn’t gotten any brighter. It matches the overcast sky beyond the window.

“Who’s asking?” I ask warily.

“I’m Hazel. Hazel Simonson.”

I give her a blank look. “Okay. Do we know each other?”

A groove digs into her forehead, but I’m not quite sure what that signifies. “Jake never mentioned me?”

My hand tightens around my coffee cup. “You know Jake?”

“Yes. Very well, actually.”

I attempt to keep my expression neutral. Swear to God, if this girl tries telling me that he’s her boyfriend…

No. I’d call bullshit if she did. I don’t think Jake is a dishonest person. He said he doesn’t do girlfriends, and I don’t believe he’s got a side piece stashed somewhere.

“Can I join you?” Hazel says coolly.

“I’m actually meeting somebody—”

She sits down, anyway. “I’ll keep you company until they get here.” Hazel clasps her hands on the tabletop. “There’s a couple things we need to discuss.”

I lean back in the chair, keeping my body language relaxed. Hers is confrontational, and I always meet aggression with indifference. It’s a tactic that tends to ruffle the aggressor’s feathers. “Look. Hazel. No offense, but I don’t know you. You’re claiming to know Jake, but he hasn’t once brought up your name to me.”

Her light-brown eyes flash briefly.

“So forgive me if I don’t trust the strange girl who sits down without invitation and glares at me like I strangled her cat.” I cross my legs, loosely resting a hand on my right knee.

“I do know Jake,” Hazel says curtly. “We grew up in Gloucester together. Went to school together. I know his parents… Lily and Rory?” she prompts.

I can’t challenge her on that. Jake never mentioned his parents’ first names to me.

“We all had breakfast together on Saturday. At their place.” A trace of smugness creeps into her expression. “Jake and I took the train up.”

An unwelcome feeling pulls at my stomach.

“I know him better than anyone,” she finishes. And it’s no longer a trace—she’s smug as fuck.

“Is that so?” I drawl.

“Yes. I know he has a good head on his shoulders, and I also know he’s way smarter than he looks. He doesn’t usually get played like this.”

The lioness act is starting to grate. “He’s getting played?”

“Don’t play dumb.” She laces her fingers together in a tight grip. “I know exactly who you are. I cyber-stalked you after he told me you were dating.”

I manage to swallow my surprise before it reaches my eyes. Jake told this chick that we were dating?

Hazel smirks. “Like I said, Jake and I are old friends. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

That sensation in my gut intensifies. It starts churning in a hot eddy of…I think it might be jealousy. But there’s a hefty dose of anger in there, too, because who the hell is this girl?

I meet her haughty eyes. “That’s great that you two are so tight. Although if that’s truly the case, then you would know that he and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

Saying it out loud triggers a wave of regret. I won’t deny that I miss him. It hasn’t even been a full week since I asked him to leave my house, but it feels like forever. He’s constantly been on my mind, which has been made worse by his daily texts. The one he sent yesterday about being around if I change my mind…I almost caved and called him.

At the last second, I regained my senses. Reminded myself why it’s better that it’s over. I don’t want a boyfriend, and especially not one who’s moving to another country in a few short months. And fine, maybe a part of me is still embarrassed by what happened in my bedroom. I could barely meet Jake’s eyes afterward. He got a front-row seat to my father lecturing me in the hallway as if I was a disobedient child.

It was so humiliating.

“Yes, I do know that,” Hazel says, interrupting my thoughts. “He told me that you ended it. And say what you will about Jake, but he’s not a cynical person—”

“What does cynicism have to do with this?” I interject.

“Everything. Because I am a cynical person, and I know what you’re up to.”

“Okay.” I’m beginning to grow tired of this entire exchange.

“Coach Jensen’s daughter hooks up with the Harvard hockey captain during the playoffs. She puts him under her spell, gets under his skin, and drops him right before the biggest game of the season. And now he’s so upset he can barely focus on hockey—the only thing that’s ever mattered to him, by the way—because this girl ghosted him.”

A new emotion joins the cocktail brewing in my gut. Guilt. “He’s upset?”

“Yeah. Congratulations. You got what you wanted.”

“That’s not what I wanted at all.”