The Peer and the Puppet (When Rivals Play, #1) (80)

I slid my palm down his erection and up again. “You think this makes you a man?”

“I think it helps.” He grinned, and then he was on his feet, pulling me from the bed. I didn’t have any of the boxes marked, so it took Ever some lifting—at his insistence.

When we found the box, he took that nifty blade of his and cut through the tape. Ever wielding a blade was almost taboo, and watching him handle it made me crave to let him handle me.

I lifted the first helmet from the box and removed the protective wrapping. It was an open-faced helmet with red and white stripes from ear to ear. As far as looks went, it was pretty plain, but there was a rumor that it had once belonged to Vincent Valentino before his champion days.

“This is Four.”

“Four?”

“I named them in the order I got them.”

“Inventive,” he remarked sarcastically while taking the helmet from my hands to inspect. “I like it.” I was caught off guard when he slipped the helmet over my head. “I never thought I’d have a thing for a biker chick.”

“You have a thing for me?”

“I think I do.” He pulled me close by my helmet straps. “You have a problem with that?”

I couldn’t answer him without making a fool of myself, so I did the next best thing and decided to kiss him. Unfortunately, I still managed to fuck up when my helmet crashed into his forehead.

“Damn,” he groaned while holding his head. “I guess you do.”

“Oh, no.” I hid my face with my hands as best I could with the helmet still on. “That went wrong.”

“I’ll fucking say.” He forced my hands from my face and then carefully lifted the helmet from my head. “Now try that again.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think your head can take much more trauma.”

“I played football, remember? I’ve taken harder hits from guys twice your size.”

With that said, I stood on the tips of my toes and pressed my lips against his. When I tried to back off, he growled and backed me into the wall.

“More.”

Before I could give in, however, someone knocked on the door. We stared at each other with wide eyes.

“It could be Jamie,” I whispered.

Ever’s expression was doubtful.

“Four?” Dread filled me when I recognized Rosalyn’s voice. “I know you’re in there, so open up. We need to talk about dinner.”

“Oh, God. What do we do?”

I was actually relieved when he smirked. “Let her in.”

“She can’t find you in here. She’ll freak.”

“I’ll hide in your bathroom.”

“Oh…right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

He smiled and nudged me toward the door before disappearing inside the en suite. For some reason, I tiptoed around the room and wondered if Ever’s heart was pounding as hard as mine. I doubted it. He seemed much too casual about being caught for my liking.

Glancing over my shoulder one last time, I opened the door. “Now’s not a good time, Rosalyn. I’m doing homework.”

“This won’t take long,” she said firmly before pushing her way inside. I closed the door, leaned against it, and waited. “How could you talk to me the way you did?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, which was partially true. I’d meant what I said, but I hadn’t imagined it coming out the way it did. “I shouldn’t have told you how I felt in front of them.”

“What do you mean how you felt? How could you be so ungrateful?”

“You mean you’re still pretending you moved us here for me?”

“You were in trouble, Four.”

“It was an isolated incident. You knew no one was after me. You just saw an opportunity and took it.” Would she stay if she knew we were living with one of them? There was only one way to find out, but I realized when the words lodged in my throat that my heart would never allow me to betray Ever. Even if he didn’t feel the same.

“How could you think so little of me? We moved here because I couldn’t chance losing you, too.”

“You wouldn’t need those pills if I weren’t around.”

“That’s not—that’s not true. The pills wouldn’t be enough if you weren’t around.”

“That may true now, but we both know without them, you’d feel differently. You couldn’t even give me a name.”

“Four is your name.”

“It’s a goddamn number!”

She clutched her chest. “Do not speak to me this way. What has gotten into you?”

I snuck a quick glance toward the bathroom but didn’t respond. When her eyes started glistening, however, the words, “I’m sorry,” flew from my lips. I couldn’t stand to see Rosalyn cry. I couldn’t bear hurting her even when she wrecked me every single fucking day.

“I need your blessing to be happy, Four.”

“Since when?”

“Thomas is different than the others.”

Except, after my father, her relationships crashed and burned, and good men disappeared in the cloud of smoke because of her issues with trust. She played a convincing victim, though.

There was probably some truth to her claim. Rosalyn wasn’t a gold digger. She’d fallen for men without two cents to rub together and even less ambition. Thomas was definitely the wealthiest of all her former beaus, but money wasn’t what captivated her. Rosalyn was truly a romantic. She was in love with being in love. Finer things were just a bonus.