14. Winnie
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
winnie
“Shh! Everyone shut up—I can’t hear,” Sawyer snaps, waving a hand behind her without looking.
Five of us are crammed into a back closet that for some reason has a window overlooking the back deck—this space was clearly meant for cleaning supplies, not five grown adults.
We’re a ridiculous arrangement of knees and elbows, stacked at different heights so we can keep Danger and Rylee in view. Someone’s knee is pressed against my ass. Sawyer’s shoulder is jammed against mine. There is nowhere else I’d rather be.
Except maybe inside a coffin.
I did offer to go out there with him.
He gave me that calm, unsettled look and said, “I got it, Winnie. Stay inside.”
Which is cowboy for: Please save yourself from this dumpster fire.
So, now I’m hiding in a closet I didn't even know existed with an audience, watching my fake boyfriend have a serious talk with his extremely real ex.
Out on the patio, Rylee paces, mouth moving quickly. Danger leans against the railing with that lazy, don’t-bother-me posture—but his grip on his drink is tight. His brow is arched like he’s one wrong sentence away from walking off.
And I can’t tell if I’m more worried he will… or that he won’t.
I’m so transfixed I almost don’t notice Charming, Trouble, and Rogue whispering behind me.
“Poor bastard,” Trouble says, shaking his head.
“She’s definitely groveling,” Rogue says, squinting to make out what’s happening. “Doesn’t feel right just standin’ here when he’s going through misery out there.”
Rylee's lips are moving nonstop, but Danger's expression is giving that he'd rather take a kick to the balls from a bull than stick around for the end of the conversation.
And some ridiculous part of me wonders how it would feel to have anyone look at me with that level of frustration. Like I wasn’t optional or forgettable, just seen.
Maybe even angry because they once cared so impossibly much about me.
Great. Now I’m nauseated thinking about how much he must have loved her.
“What do you think she wants?” I whisper, though I’m not sure why because no one else is being quiet.
“She wants him back,” Trouble says simply.
Sawyer lets out a sound like she just swallowed something rotten.
“Who does she think he is? Ken?”
“Ken?” I ask.
“She can’t disappear for years, then roll back into town expecting him to still be standing there smiling like some damn Barbie.”
“Rylee has always been that way,” Trouble says, still hovering over. “Thinks the world spins around her.”
He’s right. She’s been that way as far back as I can remember.
Sawyer huffs. “Newsflash: the world did NOT stop when she left.”
It’s a wonder how Danger has kept his cool so far. I can’t hear a single word, but I can practically imagine his voice, dangerously calm. Standing there all unfairly attractive.
God. No wonder she returned from the dead.
Rylee’s in his space now, batting her lashes and pouting like she’s auditioning for some movie titled Regret and Delusion.
Trouble shakes his head. “What the hell is she saying?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Rogue answers, tilting his head, trying to catch any words through the window.
Danger turns away from her for a moment and rubs his face like she’s hit his last nerve. Rylee is talking faster now, her hand gestures are all over the place.
Charming huffs a quiet laugh. “Think that’s your cue, Win. Go out there and save him.”
Trouble snorts. “Why would Winnie be the one savin’ him?”
Rogue glances at him. “Wait. You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Charming and Rogue exchange a look.
“None of us know exactly what happened between them,” Charming admits.
Rogue shrugs. “We all saw them leave together the other night. Something is goin’ on.”
Trouble shakes his head. “He probably just gave her a ride home.”
“Hey,” Sawyer snaps. “You idiots, she’s literally right here. You could just ask if you’re dying to know so badly.”
Three heads turn toward me so fast I swear I feel a breeze.
My brain empties. Completely. Nothing but strange elevator music and panic. So, I say the first thing that shows up.
“Yeah,” I croak. Then, because apparently I’m going all in, I say, “Something happened. We’re sort of together.”
I have no idea if that’s what Danger wants me to say. But I say it anyway.
The guys are looking at me like they’re trying to figure out the language I'm speaking. Sawyer, on the other hand, gasps like I just got crowned Miss Weston at the county fair.
“What?!” she stage-whispers, grabbing my arm. “Oh my God, we are SO talking about this later?—”
She freezes mid-sentence, eyes going wide. “Uh oh,” she hisses. “They’re heading back in!”
Everyone jolts like we’re about to get caught doing something we shouldn’t.
“Okay—okay,” Sawyer whisper-panics. “We leave casual. Not all at once. Like we weren’t just spying.”
“Me and Winnie will go out first,” Sawyer orders, already shoving the door open an inch. “Go, go.”
We slip out, trying for normal and landing somewhere near suspiciously stiff.
I take one step and nearly collide with Kevin, one of the other bartenders, who is holding a box of limes.
I freeze. He freezes.
“We were just—” I start.
Sawyer, somehow worse under pressure, blurts, “Nothing. We were nothing.”
Kevin’s eyes flick between us. Then the closet door opens again. Trouble ducks out. Then Rogue. Then Charming.
All in a slow, horrible line emerging from a tiny closet.
Kevin blinks.
We all blink back.
This is the most eye contact I’ve ever had with another human, and I hate it.
“I didn’t see anything,” Kevin says quickly.
“There’s nothing to see,” I say at the exact same time Sawyer says, “It’s not what it looks like.” Which is a terrible thing to say when no one asks.
Kevin nods too many times. “Cool. Cool.”
He twists and speed-walks the other direction like the hallway is on fire and we started it.
We stand there in silence.
Rogue exhales. “Well. That’ll be a rumor by morning.”
“By morning?” Trouble says. “You know he’s texting someone right now.”
I close my eyes.
I’ve got to check on Danger. I have bigger problems than being mistaken for part of whatever deeply concerning brother orgy Kevin thinks we’re running.
Sawyer and I make it to the bar, pretending we’ve been there the whole time. Rogue and Trouble lean against the counter like this is just… a normal place to stand. Normally. Casually. As people do.
Danger comes in first, has that same look I see on peoples faces when they come in after a long week. His eyes sweep the room once before landing on us.
On me.
He heads straight for the bar, for the whiskey bottle closest to him, and tosses it back. Then he sets the bottle down.
“You okay?” I ask, because I don't know what else to say.
A slow smirk pulls at his mouth. “Yeah.”
The way he says it makes me suspicious, maybe a little nervous.
“I got an idea.”
I raise an eyebrow. “A bad idea?”
“Most of mine are.”
Before I can ask what that means, his hand slides to my lower back. “Come here.”
Every head in here swivels. Including Rylee’s.
Great. Perfect. Here we go.
He guides me toward the pool table. Then he grabs a cue, rolling it once between his fingers like he hasn't just made half the bar stop talking. He leans down, mouth near my ear.
“Alright,” he says. “Lesson one.”
I blink. “Lesson?—?”
His eyes flick briefly toward Finn, then Rylee.
“Two birds. One stone.”
Rylee I get but Finn Banks? I don’t actually care about Finn Banks. He was just an example from a long list of Men Who Don’t Notice Me.
Danger steps behind me. My back brushes his chest. And suddenly I forget how pool works. “First thing you need to know,” he says, his hand covers mine on the cue. “You want his attention, you just take it.”
So, he thinks I can just… claim male attention like it’s a stray dog I can whistle over?
His other hand settles lightly at my hip, adjusting my stance. My brain stops functioning. “How am I supposed to take it?”
His mouth tilts against my ear. “Don't chase someone's eyes.” His fingers guide mine along the cue. “Make 'em earn yours.”
My stomach does a slow, traitorous flip.
“That sounds easier said than done.”
“Most things are.”
He adjusts my elbow. “Do you know what desperate looks like?”
“What?”
“Looking around the room every five seconds to see who's watching.”
I exhale a laugh. “Okay. Rude.”
His grin brushes against my hair.
“No.” A pause. “Accurate.”
I roll my eyes, even though I'm smiling. “So now what?”
“Keep talking.”
“About what?”
He shrugs. “Doesn't matter.”
I stare down at the cue like it holds the answer. Nothing. Absolutely nothing comes to mind.
“Um… I hate pickles.”
Then, surprisingly, he laughs. Easy. Completely unguarded. I decide, rather inconveniently, that I could listen to that laugh all day.
“Darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “That's the best you could do?”
I turn toward him, unable to hold back my own laugh. “I panicked.”
He takes the cue from my hand and props it against the rail behind him. Then he steps in. Both knuckles land on the felt on either side of me, caging me against the pool table. Not touching me. But close enough that I feel him everywhere.
Somehow, that’s worse.
And then he looks at me. Not at Finn. Not at Rylee. Me. Like watching me laugh is the best thing that's happened to him all day.
“There it is.”
My smile falters. “What?”
“That smile.”
My cheeks burn, and I make a mental note to stop letting this man talk.
Only then does he glance over my shoulder. His eyes find Finn. Then come right back to me. “Got him.”
I fight every instinct to look.
“He’s watching closely… and now you know something he doesn’t.”
“What do I know?”
“That you could ruin him and you haven't decided if he's worth it.”
I forget Finn even exists.
Without thinking, my fingers slide over his forearm. Solid. Warm. Veined. Rylee looks like she might actually combust.
“See?” Danger says, tilting his head. “You're not asking for attention. You're taking it.”
My heart pounds so hard I'm worried he can feel it.
If this is his first lesson, I'm in trouble.
I rise onto my toes, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I like it when you tell me what to do…” His hand holds my hip to steady me. “...Daddy.”
Deep inside, the introvert in me—who avoids eye contact, prefers books and staying home—is hyperventilating. Did that even sound right coming from me?
Danger goes completely still.
Not the teasing kind of still. Not the amused kind.
The kind that tells me he might need a second to recover.
His grip tightens just slightly at my side, like his body reacted to that before he could stop it.
When he pulls back enough to look at me, there’s a flicker in his eyes I’ve never seen before—dark, caught off guard, and burning.
Behind him, there’s a sharp crack.
Rylee has red wine dripping from her fingers. The stem of her glass hangs broken in her hand, there's shattered pieces on the floor at her feet. Her friends stare.
“Oh my God, Rylee—are you okay?”
She doesn’t look at them. She’s looking at us.
“I—I need to go,” she yells, grabbing a napkin, face flushed as she pushes past her table.
Danger doesn’t even turn around. "One down," he drawls.
His hand finds the small of my back, steering me toward the bar. By the time we reach the stools, he gives me a light nudge.
"Sit your pretty little self down. I'll get you a drink while what's-his-face figures out what's right in front of him."
I hate how much I like hearing him say things like that.
I do exactly what he says. I slide onto the barstool, smoothing my skirt and trying to act normal because none of this is normal. Danger moves behind the bar like he owns the place, like this is natural, like I belong on this side of the bar.
And that’s when I hear it.
"Well, I'll be." Finn Banks says from two stools down. "My buddy just told me you’re a bartender here. How long you been working here, Winnie?"
I smile politely. "Long enough to know your usual order."
He knows my name?
He spoke to me.
Danger was right.
We did something. Changed something. He doesn’t think I’m invisible.
But I don’t want Finn’s attention. I don’t want just any man’s attention.
I want the one currently teaching me how to get someone else’s.
When my gaze finds Danger again, he's already watching me. He sets a drink in front of me without breaking eye contact.
"You're good at this," I say.
“And you’re better at it than you think. We could rule this town, Winnie Hawthorne.”
His gaze drifts past me to where Finn is still looking our way.
A slow grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“Well, that's embarrassing for him.”
“What?”
Danger leans closer.
“That he just figured out you were right in front of him.”
Heat creeps up my neck.
Yeah, this is a problem.
Because I’m not just learning how to get a man’s attention.
I’m learning exactly how much I’m starting to want this one.
A man I absolutely cannot have.
And I have a very bad feeling…
He’s not the lesson, not the teacher.
He’s the mistake.