Bonus Chapter
Rhett
It’s stifling in here. I run my finger under the neckline of my shirt, but it does nothing to ease the feeling that I’m going to explode if I don’t get some air soon. I glance at Heath, and he looks as uncomfortable as I do, but the dude’s wearing a hoodie, so that has to be a million times worse.
In reality, Pierce’s game room isn’t hot. A balmy seventy-two degrees, but with the amount of tension radiating throughout the place, the January chill outside sounds more appealing. Even the bourbon pear spritzers we’re drinking aren’t helping.
The whole reason we’re here is stupid as shit. It’s not to play poker, even though it’s Tuesday. No, we’re here because our group’s two psychopaths couldn’t agree to disagree. And, of course, that argument had to escalate to epic proportions, because have you met either of them?
Pretty sure they’d both rather have a heart attack than be accused of doing anything half-assed.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, when no one else says anything.
Apparently, Pierce and Maeve are going to have a competition for the right to remain in our friend group, and we’re the ones who have to decide what it will look like.
Walker shifts in her seat, her fingers moving to the necklace she always wears. “I still think we should try to stop this whole thing from happening.”
Raising my glass to my lips, I let out a scoff, which isn’t directed at her, but at the two maniacs in the living room. “Have you seen Maeve? The stick up her ass is now firmly lodged in her esophagus.”
Beside me, Saylor snorts and bites her lip to keep from smiling. I reach for her hand under the table, twining our fingers together. Her sapphire ring presses into my palm, reminding me that this incredible human has agreed to be my wife. How the fuck did I get so lucky?
“I feel bad,” Walker says, lowering her eyes to the table. “I never should have suggested it. The filter between my brain and mouth wasn’t working.”
“It’s not your fault.” Heath wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple.
“This was always bound to happen,” Lux says. “Those two have been circling each other for years.”
“I still think they should fuck and get it out of their systems,” I say.
Heath gives Walker a pointed look. “I told you.”
“No, you said they already have,” she says.
“They would be perfect together.” Lux nods, her eyes brightening as she leans forward.
“Babe, they would murder each other.” Slate rests his hand on her back, his tanned skin in stark contrast to her white sweater.
“Speaking of murder, what do you think is going on out there?” Saylor asks.
“I’m scared to find out,” Walker mutters.
“We haven’t heard any screaming yet, so . . .” I point out.
“You’re right. It’s eerily silent,” Lux says. “They’re either making out or trying to kill each other with glares alone.”
Pierce and Maeve have been relegated to the living room while we sort this whole thing out.
God only knows what kind of havoc is currently being wreaked.
While I don’t give a shit about Pierce’s furniture—the guy can afford to replace it without batting an eye—I’m more worried that they’re creating their own competition before we have the chance to make ours.
“We should get started,” I say, “before Pierce ends up with Maeve’s stiletto through his heart.”
“Good point,” Lux says, and pulls a small laptop from her bag. “I’ve been thinking. Walker, your suggestion was actually kind of brilliant.”
Walker blinks at her, dark eyes wide. “I was going to offer myself as the sacrificial lamb, but let’s go with your idea instead.”
Lux flicks her long, blond hair over her shoulder. “I know not everyone agrees with me”—she shoots her boyfriend a look—“but I think we should use this challenge to try to get them together.”
“You’re joking, right,” I say with a laugh, but she doesn’t look amused.
“You think Maeve and Pierce should be together?” Walker asks, nose scrunched. “Like, as a couple?”
Slate crosses his arms over his chest, eyes hooded as he looks at his girlfriend. “I actually like Pierce.”
Lux shrugs, completely unaffected by the fact that we don’t agree with her. “I think he would be good for her.”
“In what way?” Saylor asks, taking a sip of her cocktail.
“Maeve puts up a lot of walls,” Lux says, “but behind them, she’s actually pretty great. I think Pierce might be able to help her lower them.”
“By fucking her, you mean,” Heath says with a grin.
Lux’s cheeks turn pink. “Not just that, no.”
“But that would be a good start,” I say. “I can only imagine the cobwebs she’s—”
Saylor socks me in the stomach with her elbow, and I exhale a coughing laugh.
“I can see it.” Walker nods, a far-off look in her eyes. “They understand how the other one thinks. And while I wouldn’t want to be there when they are fighting over which way the toilet paper roll should be turned, I think Lux may be right. They could be good for each other.”
Heath runs a hand through his hair and yawns. “I’ve always thought they had a thing for each other.”
“They’ll make beautiful babies, that’s for sure,” Saylor says.
I nearly spit out my drink.
Lux beams as she scans the table, subtly gloating. She doesn’t need the rest of us to tell her she’s brilliant. She’s got that one covered on her own.
“You’d really do that to your friends?” Slate asks.
Lux turns her megawatt smile on him, and you can literally see the guy turn into a pile of goo. I’d say it’s disgusting if Saylor didn’t have the same effect on me. “When have I ever been wrong?”
“How much time do we have?” I laugh.
She cuts me a look, but it’s nowhere near as deadly as the one Slate shoots me.
“Fine,” he says, shifting back in his seat. “Whatever you think, babe.”
“Thank you,” she says before turning to me. “Rhett?”
“If we were to try it,” I hedge, “how are you planning to get them past the point of wanting to throw each other off a building?”
“There’s no way in hell Pierce wants Maeve dead,” Slate says, shaking his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at her.”
“And how is that?” Lux asks, a thread of excitement running through her voice.
“Like he wants to fuck her,” Heath and I both say at the same time.
The girls share a glance, wheels spinning in each of their heads. God help a man who gets in the way of a woman with a plan.
“But”—I hold up a finger before they can get too carried away—“wanting to fuck a woman and spend the rest of your life with her are two very different things.”
“Hear, hear,” Heath says.
“Granted, but if Pierce wants Maeve, then our job just became a whole lot easier,” Lux says.
“Not necessarily,” I say. “If Maeve was any other woman, maybe.” Pierce St. James is a lot of things—ugly and poor are not two of them. “But we’re talking about Maeve.”
“I think we’re all aware of that, Rhett,” Lux drolls.
“Have you ever tried taming a wild animal? It’s not as easy as it looks in the movies,” I say.
Saylor leans over and subtly slides her hand over my crotch. “Have you ever tried taming a wild animal?”
“No, but I’ll tame you later,” I growl into her ear.
“So we’ll structure the challenges in a way that forces them to see each other in a new light,” Lux says. “They’ll be dating without even knowing it.”
Even Slate looks skeptical of this. “I know you’re a magician,” he says, “but I’m not sure how even you are going to pull that off.”
“Dating is about spending time together and getting to know the other person, right? So we’ll make sure they get lots of time to do both.”
Saylor laughs, her cheeks glowing with pleasure. “I think it sounds like a bad TV drama waiting to happen, and I am so here for it. Can we please make them be each other’s fake dates?” She sends me a coy look.
Beside me, Heath snickers. They all know the story of how Saylor and I ended up together and never lose an opportunity to tease me about it.
“Yes!” Lux claps her hands. If she gets any more excited, I swear she’ll start bouncing in her seat. “Definitely a fake date. Any other ideas?”
“Look, I’m all for helping my mate get what he wants,” I say, resting my forearms on the table.
Saylor’s hand is still on my leg, and it’s taking every ounce of self control I have to stay in this room rather than take her out of here.
“But Maeve seems determined to actually have some kind of competition. Which means at the end of this whole thing, we have to kick someone out of the group.”
It’s the truth none of us wants to face.
“Maybe,” Lux muses, “or maybe we do our job well enough that that doesn’t happen.”
* * *
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