Page 108 of Under Pressure

Bodi ran away, and he’s been trying to find him.

My gut twists tighter with every possibility. I shouldn’t even be thinking about them. He should be back already.

Actually, he shouldn’t have left at all. Bodi could have waited until we both took him out.

“Quinn? We can change the colours if you aren’t sure about them! I won’t be mad. This is super-late notice, anyway,” Brielle says, leaning over the table to touch my wrist.

I clear my throat to dislodge the ball stuck there. “The pinks are great. I’d say the right one is better, though. It’s a bit darker.”

“Perfect. And you’re sure this is alright?”

“What is?”

“You doing the desserts. Rome mentioned that I might have been a bit pushy because, well, that’s kind of my personality. I just thought you’d do a better job than anyone else I could have found.”

Her perfectly painted, slightly overlined lips droop as she stares across the table at me. Guilt immediately floods me, forcing my head to shake in refusal.

“There was no pushiness, I promise. We’re excited for this. I’ve been giving the business a lot of thought recently, and I can’t say that offering this in the future would be a bad thing.”

“You’re sure? Like one hundred percent? It’s not like the stadium dog thing, is it?” She winces.

Dread drips down my spine. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You hated it, and I literally shoved it down your throat.”

“I mean . . . you didn’t, really.”

Her groan is loud, even when she presses her palm to her mouth to muffle it. “I totally did. Next time, please tell me to fuck off or something. I can be a lot, and I didn’t mean to upset you. Seriously, Aubrey tells me off all the time when I’m being too much. You’re more than welcome to do the same. I promise I won’t get upset.”

“It’s okay. Really.” I don’t ask who told her the truth because I’m already pretty sure I know who. “It takes a lot more than a hot dog to bother me.”

She stares at me for a moment longer before her shoulders slump in her chair. “Thank fuck. I don’t want to scare you off. Beck would never find another woman like you, and we’d all be left to suffer with whoever he found after.”

“You’re flattering me.”

“Babe, that guy was such a fuckboy a couple of years ago.”

“Was he?” My tone is sharper than I meant it to be.

Her brow twitches and then pulls up as if she can’t stop the reaction. “You didn’t know that?”

“I’ve seen the articles. But I don’t necessarily think they’re true. You’re the one who’s known him for years, though.”

“The articles and the rumours are exaggerated versions of the truth,” she admits.

“His past doesn’t really matter to me. If he slept around, then good for him. I don’t necessarily think that makes him a fuckboy. Did he treat the women badly?”

“No. He’d never do that.”

I shrug my shoulder, hating how tight my muscles have become over the past few minutes. I’m not mad at her, but I’m feeling defensive. Incredibly so.

“I think being considered a fuckboy hurts his feelings, especially when it’s his closest friends calling him that. There’s adifference between sleeping around because you like sex and doing it just to be some pompous asshole who brags about it to seem cool. If I thought it was the latter, I wouldn’t be in l?—”

My eyes bulge. There’s a near-painful sinking sensation in my stomach as pure terror turns my blood to ice. I bite down on my tongue hard enough to feel a sharp sting. I push my hair out of my face with a trembling hand.

“The darker pink will work better with the chocolate. I’ll show the references to Ruthie tomorrow morning,” I ramble, the back of my neck tacky with sweat.