Hooked (Never After, #1)(32)

“I wasn’t planning on going,” Wendy tells me.

“You should,” I reply. “I’ll be busy, but I quite like the idea that you’ll be close.”

She grins, her eyes softening as she leans into my touch. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” I press a kiss on her forehead and step back just as the twins exit the building. “Tell Georgie to put anything you want on my tab.”

Wendy’s eyes widen. “You have a tab here?”

I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Darling, drop my name anywhere in this town and you’ll never pay for a thing again.”

“Which name?” her friend pipes in.

I glance at her, my jaw clenching. “Pardon?”

She sucks on her bottom lip. “I’m just asking… which name? James? Or…”

The corner of my mouth twitches. “I believe you know the answer to that.”

Wendy sucks in a breath. “Hook?”

I incline my head. “That’s what they call me.”

“Why?” she asks.

“Just an unfortunate nickname, I’m afraid.” I wink and turn to the twins, nodding at them to head to the Escalade idling at the curb. “Do me a favor, darling?”

She lifts a brow.

“When you come to the JR tonight, wear something blue.” I lean in, my breath ghosting along her ear. “It’s such a lovely color, and I want to spend all night imagining the way it will look shredded on my bedroom floor.”

She sucks in a breath, and I press my lips to her cheek before stepping away and into the car, my cock stiff and my heart pounding.





19





Wendy





I’m sitting in the formal living room of my home, waiting for Angie to pick me up. Wearing something blue. Jon’s across from me, working on yet another model plane.

“Dad called this morning,” he says, his voice cutting through the silence.

My heart jumps to my throat. I highly doubt it was a personal call just to say hello, and disappointment settles in my gut like a brick, knowing without Jon saying the words that he told him. Over the phone.

Jon’s fist tightens around his paintbrush, pausing from where he’s filling in a black line down the side of his plane. “Look, he told me, okay? So you can stop looking at me like that.”

I inhale a slow breath. “Told you what?”

“That I’m going to that stupid boarding school. It’s fine.”

Sighing, I lean back into the chair, resting my arms on the cushioned sides. “It is?”

His eyes flick to me over the rim of his glasses. “Would it matter if it wasn’t?”

“Of course, it would.”

He tosses his paintbrush down, running a hand through his jet-black hair, so similar to our mother’s. “There’s nothing you can do to change it, Wendy. It is what it is, and you sitting there looking like you’re about to burst into tears isn’t helping the situation.”

My chest pulls tight. “I’m not—”

His eyes narrow. “You are.”

“I just want you to be happy. That’s all.” I raise my hands.

He doesn’t respond, his attention going back to his craft. The silence is suffocating as it wraps its way around my throat and stuffs into my ears, allowing room for my thoughts to grow wild and uninterrupted.

This is the only thing I’ve asked my father for, and yet, somehow, he still couldn’t follow through, choosing to take the easy road, to cast Jon’s feelings aside as if something as huge as this doesn’t really matter. Another charred and heavy log is thrown on the fire of my anger, simmering at the base of my gut.

“He said I’m going tomorrow.”

The words are soft and short, but they pummel me in the chest anyway. “Tomorrow?” I gasp. “Is he coming home to take you there?”

Jon’s lips curve into a small smile, but it isn’t happiness I feel vibrating through the air. “Wendy, be real. The driver will take me.”

Flames lick up my insides, heating my veins. “I’ll take you.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” I force a smile. “I’ve gotta see it for myself if I plan on visiting every week.”

Jon groans. “You are not allowed to visit every week.”

My grin grows. “Well, you better let me take you tomorrow then, otherwise I’ll come all the time, and I’ll make sure to be extra embarrassing.”

Jon chuckles, his eyes sparking the tiniest bit. “Wendy, you’re never embarrassing. Just… overbearing.”

My hand flies to my heart. “Should I be offended by that?”

“No, it’s…” He shakes his head. “It’s nice.”

The knot in my stomach unravels at our banter, the familiarity bursting through me like a long-lost friend. But it’s quickly swiped away by the knowledge that after tomorrow, it will really just be me all alone.





We’ve been at the JR for two hours and I’ve yet to see James.

Maria—who isn’t with us tonight—said he owned the bar, but the longer I sit here without his overbearing presence to muddle my thoughts, the more I realize I don’t actually know anything about him.