Chapter Sixteen #2
“He wants me to be good,” I bemoan dramatically, like it’s more wounding. “Never.” I stare under my lashes. “You can’t make me. But it’s not too late for you to be bad. Come over to the Dark Side. You’ll survive longer if you do.”
His arms cross over his bare chest. “Is it about survival for you?”
I like how quick he is. I’m sure Hailey loves his Ivy League brain even more. “You know what they say? All the good die young.” I tilt my head. “So at this rate, I will outlive you.”
His concern veers to my face. “You’re bleeding through the cloth.”
“You don’t say.” I breathe out a tensed breath, watching him crouch down to the cupboard. Probably in search of a first aid kit or bandage for me. “You care too much about people you shouldn’t.”
It disrupts his search for a solid second before he continues. “Not all of us can be carefree.”
“I’m not free of caring. Just selective in how hard I care.” I avoid glancing at myself in the mirror. “Care too hard and you’ll strap ten-pound weight plates on your chest.” I don’t tell him I’m certain I picked up at least two twenty pounders tonight.
He’s rigid while digging out boxes of Advil. “How hard do you care about Hailey with me?”
Uh, fuck. I have the urge to lie, but he’s a part of the family business. I had no problems bringing him into the fold—the more we can trust, the merrier—but that was also before I knew Hailey had feelings for him.
“Now,” I say, “too hard.” I mutter more to myself, “I didn’t see it coming.
” Suspected that Trevor might do something disturbing again—check.
Suspected that Rocky would finally make a move on Phoebe—check.
Did not account for Hails swerving in the Jake Koning Waterford direction with actual emotion.
“It surprises you that much that she could like me?” He must’ve heard me.
“You’re a silver-spoon polo-playing rich boy. The kind we dupe. If she fell for anyone, I thought it would’ve been another grifter.”
“Like you,” he points out.
I laugh into a painful smile. Literally painful. “Keep following my train of thought, it’s like so hot.” I layer on the vocal fry.
Jake rips open a box. “You’re a character.”
“Many characters,” I amend, peering at myself in the mirror. Shit. The cloth is very bright red.
“Which one does Hailey love?”
“All of them. All of me.” I lower the washcloth and inspect the four-inch cut a little below my cheekbone in the mirror. Blood trickles down my jaw the instant I remove pressure. I’m barely breathing, and I find myself glancing down at Jake.
He’s quickly pulling out antiseptic and bandages. I’m in a slight lunge against the sink, and while he’s squatting, his face is far closer to my pelvis than should be comfortable.
I seize this distraction. “You like giving or just receiving?”
His eyes catch my cock, then rise to my face as he stands, about an inch taller than me. “You asking me to blow you?”
“You always answer a question with a question?” I counter.
“Like you just did?”
“Oh, see, we’re on a roll now. You don’t want to stop, do you?”
“Oliver.” He’s staring at my face.
I wipe the blood off my jaw. “Koning.” I look at myself in the mirror for only a second before staring at him through it.
He tears the paper off the bandage. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
I just barely ease. “What’d you come in here for anyway?”
He hands me the bandage. Butterfly tape. Let’s just hope this keeps the cut closed. “To ask if you planned to sleep on the floor.”
“Not unless you push me off the bed.” I concentrate on adhering the tape to my cheek. Finished. “Which is very charitable of me, if you think about it.” I round his body and reach for a towel on a gold rod.
He shifts his weight. I notice his abs flexing. “How?” he asks.
I tie the towel around my waist. “The fact that I’m even allowing you to sleep in the same bed as me and Hailey.”
“Maybe we should revisit the power dynamics here.” Jake clutches the sink. “Because I was invited to stay in this room with Hailey all summer long. You were invited for one night.”
“One night always turns into two, which turns into three, four, five thousand—”
“Five thousand,” he states firmly.
“You look tired on your feet. I didn’t want you to stand there while I count to infinity.”
Jake nods a couple times with intense, challenging eye contact. I’m enjoying this back-and-forth more than I should. If it weren’t for the stinging on my cheek, maybe I’d even smile.
Especially as Jake says, “Don’t care too hard about my body.”
“I haven’t. I won’t.” At this, I round his tall frame again and feel his eyes tracking my movements. I push quietly into the bedroom with my shoulder. I wink at him, then tense more when I’m in the room and the distraction of Jake Waterford is gone.
I lightly run my fingers over the butterfly-taped cut. Then I freeze. Hailey is fine. Asleep under the sheets where I’d left her, but the brass doorknob—the door to the second-floor hallway—is twisting.
Jake sidles next to me. “Is something wrong?” His voice is a whisper.
“Stay here.” With silent footfalls, I approach the door, then rest a shoulder on the frame.
When Rocky breaks in with a bump key, the first thing he sees is my face.
I swing my head back to Jake. “That is breaking and entering.”
Rocky double-blinks hard when he sees Jake and me in his sister’s room. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “What is this?”
“Slumber party for the wicked,” I whisper, barricading him from entering with my arm across the door.
He glares at me. “Then why’s Jake here?”
“Corrupting him by the minute.”
Rocky rolls his eyes hard, then steps forward to intimidate me backward. Our chests meet. “Move.”
Yeah, no. I’m not going to budge. He’s about to bulldoze toward the bed. I put my hand on his sternum. Stopping him.
“Get out of my fucking way,” he snarls under his breath. “I need to talk to Hailey. This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not laughing.” I walk him out the door.
“Oliver.” He rips my hand off his chest.
He clashes more with my brother than he does with me. I can swallow the rough, acidic pill that is Brayden Tinrock. I would’ve said nothing can hurt me, but I know that’s not true. I’ve always known there was a chance Hailey could.
I quietly pull the door closed. In the quiet hallway, Rocky glares at me like he’s either going to deck me in the face or shove me into the wall.
If Nova learned he did either, Rocky would have a black eye by tomorrow afternoon, so he won’t attempt it.
I guard the door. “You really want to deprive your sister of a beautiful deep slumber right now?” I absorb the guttural fury in his eyes. I can’t tell…if it’s his usual kind. “What’s going on?”
He suddenly notices my bandaged cheek. “What happened?” His head whips back to the door, like maybe Jake hurt me. Rocky has his moments. Even the core of a rotten apple is soft.
“Accident,” I say. “I doubt Jake would step on a spider, literal and figurative.”
Rocky doesn’t untense. “Get Nova to look at it.”
“That was my plan tomorrow morning.” My brother has the most medical training out of all of us. He’ll know if it’ll scar.
Rocky scratches at the collar of his shirt. “This, with Hailey, can’t wait. I would prefer she knows what’s going on now.”
I frown. “We agreed not to turn to her every time we’re looking for a solution.
” She’s the mastermind, a moniker we made up as kids, but she’s also just Hailey.
She feels too much responsibility when things go wrong, and I want this to change for her so not every fuckup and error drags her down into the rabbit hole.
“I’m not looking for a solution, man. This is about my sister.” He tips his head closer to me, his lips against my ear as he whispers most of what Varrick Wolfe told him in the smoking room.
Hailey marrying Trent?
It doesn’t compute. She’s never taken a role like this in any con. She would never. “There’s nothing to worry about,” I whisper. “It won’t happen.”
Except I know, in the back of my brain…anything can happen.