Chapter Thirty-Five
THIRTY-FIVE
Hailey
“Leave some pickles for the rest of us.” George Reynolds means no harm by the comment, considering it’s followed with a chortle. He has When the Wind Blows tucked under his armpit and tops his plastic plate with rosemary and herb crackers.
My cheeks burn a deep shade of red. Book club has one of the best charcuterie spreads every month, and today I’ve piled my plate full of tiny cornichons.
In my head, George has just screamed, “THIS ONE IS PREGNANT!”
Pickles have been my latest undoing. I crave them. All kinds. Sweet ones, spicy ones, bread and butter chips, dill spears, even the sour pickles I used to hate. I’m beginning to think this baby might come out a full-blown pickle.
No one is thinking you’re pregnant, Hailey. I take that reminder and my plate to a high-top table next to a shelf of horror novels. If anything can calm my sudden nerves, it’s being surrounded by books.
I crunch a cornichon and cough. What the fuck?
Trent just walked through the doors. I fight the urge to duck under the table or slip behind the bookshelf.
Hiding from Trent—not the job. But I didn’t expect him to be here.
Book club is my sanctuary zone where I get to eat free crackers and cheese and mingle over thrillers with Jake.
My stomach sours, and I barely get the pickle down with a gulp of water before Trent spots me. He beelines for my table.
This is good, Rocky would say. Use the opening. I see the opportunity, but improvising has never been my forte.
“Just the girl I was looking for,” Trent greets as he places the hardback on the table. “How’s it going, Hay-Hay?”
I blink extra hard at the new revolting nickname he just created. “Hailey,” I say.
He bites the end of his sunglasses. “Hay-Hay is cuter, no?”
“No,” I say into a crunchy chomp of pickle.
Other book club members start eyeing us with sudden intrigue.
Trent has been the talk of the town, and not so fondly.
But this isn’t the first time his name has been churned through the rumor mill, and I’m sure he’s waiting for the dust to settle and his name to be cleared once again.
Guys like Trent always come away from scandal with no more carnage than a wrinkled shirt.
“If you were looking for me,” I add, “why not catch me at Stonehaven? We live in the same hall.” I don’t love putting this idea into his head.
Like hell do I want him knocking on my door in the middle of the night.
But I am genuinely curious why he wouldn’t just take the easy route rather than jump-scare me in town.
He flips open the hardback absentmindedly, ignoring the onlookers. “Yes, but we’re also living on a big rock in the middle of the harbor. Your brother tried to drown me in a pool. What’s to say he wouldn’t throw me in the sea if he sees me talking to his little sister?”
I frown. “You’re scared of Grey?”
“Scared’ is a strong word, Hay-Hay. I am reasonably on guard, and if I didn’t respect Varrick so much and his competition for heir, I would’ve packed my bags already and moved back home for the rest of the summer.”
I’m sure this has more to do with Varrick’s money than respect, but I don’t push back on that. In fact, I choose to stay quiet, munching on my pickles while he eats air.
He watches me for a long second. “Phoebe is your best friend, so you two must have some similarities.”
My forehead wrinkles in a deep frown. Is he trying to pump himself up into marrying me? Figuring out if I’m at all like the girl he can’t have? I’m not trying to be his dream girl. That would involve him wanting to marry me and fuck me.
“We’re very different,” I tell him.
“Are you exclusively into men, or are you into girls, too, like Phoebe is?” His eyes don’t leave me, as if this is a serious question. It almost feels like an interview, and I don’t ask how he knows Phoebe has slept with girls. That’s not something she hides.
“Just men,” I say.
He lets out an annoyed sigh, and I can almost see his dreams of having his future wife partake in a threesome float away.
I dip my cornichon in mustard. He looks around the room, almost out of boredom. I’m losing him—clearly.
“Did you see Jake before you came in?” I ask, pulling his attention back.
“Jake?” Trent grimaces like he just ate a lemon. “What do you want with him?”
“He always comes to book club.”
Trent angles his head toward the door. “There’s your answer.”
Jake walks into the bookstore, his hair disheveled from the afternoon wind.
He’s the definition of preppy in his designer navy polo and crisp white pants.
I don’t take my eyes off him. I love the edges of his strong, stubbly jawline.
Heroic. The kind of face that’d be sculpted and erected in the Pantheon to be worshipped and to last for all time.
Since I moved to Victoria, we’ve run into each other so often in public. The town square, the bookstore, VCC, the pier, restaurants, and diners. Each time, I had to remain uninterested. He had to appear friendly but detached.
So, for the first time, seeing him in public, I let myself smile.
Truly smile.
Like blinding I’m so fucking happy to see you smile.
When his blue eyes hit mine, he halts a little. Stumbles. Confused lines pleat between his brows for a split second before realization hits, and he lets himself smile, too.
We’re just smiling at each other across the room for a good thirty seconds before he starts approaching my table.
Trent’s gaze flits between me and his brother. “Hay-Hay,” he groans. “Please tell me you don’t have a crush on my brother.”
“He’s cute,” I whisper bashfully as I swirl my pickle in mustard.
Trent sighs. “Bad taste, going for the uglier brother.” He gives me a quick once-over. “Listen, I know all about your proclivities—”
“My what?” I ask, feigning stupidity.
“I’ve heard you sleep around,” Trent says, not bothering to whisper as Jake reaches us and is in earshot.
I swallow my pickle.
Jake is glowering at his brother and snatches Trent’s hardback on the table so possessively that I have a suspicion Trent might have stolen it from him. “Did you come in here just to harass her?”
Trent gapes. “Seriously? The accusations are getting a little tiresome. We’re friends.” He motions between me and him with his sunglasses. “Right, Hay-Hay?”
“Right,” I squeak.
Trent smiles. “And I was about to tell her that you are a grade A prude. Exclusivity is a nonnegotiable with you.”
I stay quiet.
“And that matters because?” Jake frowns.
Trent looks between us. “She thinks you’re cute, and I wouldn’t want her to get her heart broken.”
Jake turns to me, his lips rising in an affectionate smile. “You think I’m cute?”
“I mean…yeah.” My face must be tomato red. Hot. All. Over. Of course, he’s cute. He was in my bed last night, and I was riding him until I could see stars. Oliver was behind me, teasing my clit, sending me to another plane of existence.
They kissed.
They kiss a lot when we’re in bed together.
The image sends greater heat through my body. I don’t need to be thinking about Jake’s cock in me right now. Nope. No.
Trent’s eyeing me suspiciously, then his brother. We’re really walking a thin tightrope here. He needs to think Jake likes me. He wants what Jake has. It’s a known fact.
But we don’t need him to want me so badly he’d want to fuck me, too.
I’m not sure if I messed this up. All I can do is mumble out an “I think I’m going to get some air.” I leave the bookstore quickly, but not before I grab my plate of pickles.
My heart beats quickly. Did that work?
I’m not sure I’ll have a way of knowing until I see Trent again.
I find my phone in my crossbody bag and call Nova to come pick me up. Within a few minutes, his car is at the curb. “You okay?” Nova asks me as soon as I’m strapped in the passenger seat.
“I think so.” I let out a deep exhale.
He barely removes his gaze off me, and I wonder if I’m doing a bad job at hiding the stress lines in my face. I’m just…overthinking. It comes with the territory when I’m not as confident in this role.
He doesn’t vocally express his concern, but it’s written all over him from the wrinkles in his forehead to the depths of his brown eyes.
He’s not as good at hiding his emotions as Oliver.
Apparently, I’m not either.
“I’m fine,” I reaffirm.
He puts the car in gear and peels onto the street.
“You’re sleeping?” Nova asks.
“I am. I have been.” I blush, thinking about my sleeping buddies. “Stonehaven has been good for me. Ironically, spending the summer with the devil has its benefits.” I tilt my head toward him. His seriousness never dissolves. “Are you worried I’m one sleepless night away from hallucinating again?”
Nova’s jaw tightens. “Maybe,” he admits.
“But I’m also worried my brother is one drug-fueled night away from an overdose, I’m worried my sister is one night away from getting assaulted, and I’m worried Rocky won’t survive if that happens while he’s dating her.
So don’t take it personally. I’m just fucking worried all the time. ”
I mull this over for a second. “More or less worry than before Connecticut?”
He stares ahead, his brows knitting in deeper thought. “About the same. But it’s also different here.”
“How?”
“I see my sister changing. I see you changing. Hell, even Rocky. In good ways.” His hand loosens on the wheel. “I’ve never wanted to be this stationary, but I can admit being in one place for longer than three seasons has made it easier to reflect on our lifestyle. To stop and think.”
I nudge Nova’s shoulder with mine. “Nova Graves, are you changing for the better?”
He tips his head toward me. No smile. No mirth. Just a heaviness against his brown eyes. “I don’t know how to change, Hails. I’m going to be the same guy until the day I die.”
“Relentlessly worrisome.”
He lets out a gruff laugh. “Sounds about right.”
My phone buzzes in my cargo pants. I dig it out, careful not to rip my black fishnet fingerless gloves.
“Is that Oliver?” Nova asks.
“Let me see,” I say as I click into my phone. “Not Oliver.”
I read Jake’s text.
Leaving book club early. You going back to Stonehaven?
I send a quick reply. Yes
See you there
“Phoebe?” Nova guesses again.
“Jake,” I answer.
“Jake.” Nova says his name without much emotion attached.
“I thought you liked Jake.”
“I do like Jake,” Nova says into a deeper breath. “But I like my brother more.”
My nose wrinkles in a scrunched frown. “You don’t have to choose one over the other. There’s no competition between them.”
“Maybe not for you.” Nova stops the car at a red light. “But I have a priority list, and Jake, being the new guy, is at the bottom.”
“So, if this priority list is ranked by longevity, does that mean Rocky is number one, seeing as how he’s the oldest and thereby been a part of the team the longest?”
Nova glares at the street. “No. Oliver and Phoebe are at the top.”
“So it’s not based on longevity. It’s based on familial ties.”
“It’s my own ranking system,” Nova says hotly.
“Where do I stand on it?” I wonder. “You can be honest with me. I wouldn’t much mind if I’m at the bottom since your ranking system has an arbitrary structure.”
He laughs under his breath. “We should have more of these one-on-ones, Hails. I forget how funny you are.”
“I wasn’t making a joke.”
He smiles. “I know.” After a deeper breath, he admits, “Ever since you were fifteen, and I walked in on you and Ol, I tied you together in my rankings.”
I wince a little at that memory. We’d been careless, but Oliver’s tutor had gone home sick with the flu, so we had an entire day to do absolutely nothing.
A rare occasion of freedom that we spent tutoring each other in the art of cunnilingus.
We didn’t anticipate that our moms would send Nova to the house.
I tilt my head toward him. “You know, I didn’t sleep with him to gain Nova protection benefits.”
“Of course not. You never knew about my ‘arbitrary’ ranking system.”
“I find it fascinating though,” I tell him. “Who’s after Oliver, Phoebe, and me? Rocky or Trevor?”
He groans. “Why are we even having this conversation?”
“Because it’s interesting,” I say. “More interesting, at least, than discussing my awkward conversations with Trent.”
“I’ll cop to that.”
“You know what I think?”
“No, but I know you’ll tell me.”
“Rocky is at the bottom of your list,” I say, thinking out loud.
“Not because he’s the least important but because you’ve known for some time my little brother is capable of terrible things, and it makes you want to protect Trevor more.
It’s why you, Oliver, and Rocky named Trevor the psychopath.
Somewhere along the way, you knew.” I glance back at Nova, and his face has gone paler.
His gaze has darkened on the road.
He doesn’t tell me I’m right.
But I know I am.