Whatever It Takes (Bad Reputation Duet #1)(53)

Connor’s attraction to her threat is clear in his eyes, like he could go down on her on the fucking table right now. Jesus, they’re weird. His grin expands, and he steps closer to his wife.

Loren interjects, “Careful of her talons.”

“She won’t harm me,” Connor says easily. “But I appreciate the concern.”

“I will gut you, Richard,” Rose threatens. Her chin rises as he nears again, towering above her. Confidence mixed with dominance.

“And?” he questions in a deep breath.

“And I will remove all of your organs slowly and painfully.”

“Painfully,” he muses. “You exaggerate.”

Lily is grinning from ear-to-ear. She’s obsessed with everyone being happy in love. I should know. She’s asked me how Willow and I are doing about a hundred-and-one times. To the point where I think she’ll be as devastated as me if we end up not working out.

Rose glowers. “Fear. Me. Richard. I will annihilate you in a murderous, bloody…” Her breath hitches as he steps nearer, their legs thread. She reaches back, palms hitting the iron table. He almost has her pinned.

“Fear what, Rose?” he breathes against her lips.

She says one word in French, and he says two more in the same language.

Honestly, they look like they’re about to kiss.

And this is where I’m definitely glancing back at my cell. Avoiding Instagram has been my mantra since I saw Salvatore Amadio. I don’t need to look him up and have visuals of his entire life. So I’m not about to torture myself tonight with pics of his six pack abs or Porsche (not that I know he has either but with my luck, it’s probable). Shit, stop thinking about Salvatore.

Tumblr, it is.

Willow hasn’t reblogged anything in weeks. Her account is practically dead. Mine is almost the same, but I’ve got a couple gif sets from the latest season of American Horror Story on my feed. I haven’t had time to make anything in a while.

No edits. No gifs. No videos spliced together. I want to blame it all on time, but deep down I know it’s something else.

Something more.

Fuck it, I’m doing a questionnaire. I find the tag and click into the first one.

Current Location





I pop my head up just to see Daisy hoisting two cinnamon rolls in either hand. “My right bun is smaller than my left bun.” She speaks to her husband.

Ryke is sitting beside her. Teetering back on the legs of his chair, he glances right at her boobs.

Her graphic tee says boo-fucking-tastic, and photographs of Daisy wearing that shirt have already spread over social media. To the point where the thing sold out on H&M in minutes.

Ryke focuses on Daisy’s eyes. “Your buns look fucking perfect to me, Calloway.”

The intense flirting is something I’m used to seeing from them, and it used to make me super happy. I think because Willow loves Daisy and Ryke, and seeing them together is a good thing—but now I just see two people in love. Who get to spend time together.

And I don’t have that. My stomach twists in horrible knots, my soda not settling well.

I’m bitter, I realize.

I hate being this bitter.

Daisy licks the icing off the right cinnamon roll and breaks into a huge laugh. “You’ll like this one.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s really wet.”

Ryke casually uses two fingers to swipe some icing off the dough. Then he sucks them while staring too deeply into his wife. When he drops his hand, he says, “Not wet enough, sweetheart.”

I grimace.

I see Loren seriously cringing.

Current Location: pretty sure this is some circle of hell Dante hasn’t invented yet





The kind made for bitter souls.

Daisy barely lowers her voice, teasing Ryke. “Will you still eat me?”

His I want to fuck you eyes answer her.

“Hey,” Loren snaps.

Both of them casually turn their heads to him. Like this is just another day, and conversations about oral sex and cum are completely normal.

Lo adds, “Lily wants you to stop flirting.”

Lily gapes. “I do not!”

Loren feigns surprise. “I could’ve sworn she said that you were making her nauseous.”

Ryke raises his brows at me. “Sounds like you.”

Mockingly, Loren touches his chest. “Never.”

I almost snort.

Back to the questionnaire…

Height: 5’11’’





Eye Color: I always thought they were bluish green. My girlfriend calls them aquamarine sometimes. So we’ll go with that.





Why does every distraction I have make me think of her even more? Jesus…it’s like running and hitting a brick wall and turning around and hitting another.

It’s useless. I click out of Tumblr just as Loren is snapping his fingers in my face. “You. Garrison. Follow. Now.”

I pocket my phone. “What, you forget how sentences work?”

Rose and Connor have already gathered their maps, Lily’s hand is in Lo’s, and Ryke walks away from the table, leaving Daisy in the safe zone.

Guess we really are heading out.

Loren drives a glare into me. “Says the guy who uses internet shorthand like brb and tbh.” His half-smile meets me, but it doesn’t scare me.