Page 122 of Sinners Reunion

Wanting to drive the knife even deeper, I turn to King. “Hey, have you heard anything else about the DNA yet?”

I expect him to tell a quick fib, a simple yay or nay, but he surprises me by going a step further and improvising so hard that I nearly ruin this leather. He snaps his fingers, sits up a little straighter, and squeezes my thigh.

“I’m glad you’ve reminded me,” he says. He turns to Jim. “Would you mind if I use the bar phone to make a call to our people? I should really check on those DNA results.”

Jim tenses, and I worry he’s about to blow our cover by hamming it up, but he reins it in and relaxes his shoulders again. “Yes, please do call about the DNA. I’m dying to find out who slept with Charity.”

“And when we figure it out, he’ll be dying too,” Aven says with a crack of his knuckles.

As King trots off to pretend to use the phone, I glance at Blayne. He’s sitting back with his beer, black cowboy hat set back on his stupid, crunchy curls. He’s completely unaffected. There is no doubt in my mind of his guilt, but he’s got one hell of a poker face tonight. Now I’m starting to wonder if this plan will work at all.

The conversation shifts, and Cat and Bennett eventually join us once they tire of masturbating by the food. When King returns, the conversation circles right back to the question at hand. King shakes his head.

“Not yet, but soon. He says to call when we’ve reached California, and he should have an answer by then.”

Give this man an Academy Award, ladies and gents. Never have I seen a more convincing delivery. It moves me to tears, and I can only hope it moves Blayne to set himself on fire and beg me to piss on him to put it out so that I can tell him no. He’s the literal fucking worst.

A shiver runs through me when I remember how I threw myself at him. I can admit, if only to myself, that part of my flirtation was only meant to get under King’s skin. But part of it was real, and I feel sick about it.

I scoot a little closer to King, and he turns and kisses the side of my head. It’s like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer on a cold morning; it chases away the discomfort Blayne causes me. And it makes me wonder.

If a kiss on the side of my head brings my soul this much peace, what sort of healing would I know if I let him kiss my lips? I shouldn’t even think about that. He can’t kiss me until he understands the gravity of that action for me. My secret might not be as big as his, but it’s still big to me.

If King kisses me, it’s a promise that he’s choosing me, the bitch with the bratty attitude and the chestnut hair. His dark horse. His beauty. The girl who shouldn’t be here but is.

And if he kisses me, it’s a promise that he’ll still be here tomorrow. I refuse to ever again look through the rain and beg him to come back to me. Not happening.

I have to push those thoughts away for right now, though. Some things are a little more important than my love life.

Leaning forward, I snag Kindra’s attention across the coffee table. “Kindra, could you come with me to the bathroom?”

She nods, and as she’s gathering her clutch, I lean closer to King.

“I’m going to ask if it’s okay if I talk to Ezra,” I whisper. “We have to stop them from eloping.”

He leans back and nods at me. We need Ezra with the group on that last day. He has to be part of that final decision, even if he thinks he’s already made that decision. When he learns the truth, he might feel very differently, and my only hope is that he’s a vote for King.

Kindra and I slip into the bathroom, and I don’t bother pretending that I need to piss. I stop her right beside the sinks and tell her that I need to talk to her.

“I figured,” she says. “You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d need to take a friend to the bathroom.”

“And if I were, you don’t seem like the type of girl I’d ask,” I say. “No offense.”

“None taken. You’re spot on. I don’t tag along for actual piss sessions. Only when conversations must be had.”

Okay, this is going well. We’re on the same wavelength. I just hope what I say next lands like I hope it does.

“So, I actually needed to run something by you,” I say. Fuck, why are my palms so sweaty? “I know this is weird, but would it be okay with you if I get Ezra alone for a little bit tonight?”

Her eyes bulge, and she folds her arms over her cleavage and cocks her hip. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, oh, fuck, no!” I smack my palm against my stupid, stupid forehead. “That sounded a way I did not intend. I meant that I need to talk to Ezra about something privately.”

She uncocks her hip.

“That’s all,” I continue. “Only talking. Ezra will have my express permission to tell you everything we say, but I can’t. It’s not my secret to tell, and I can’t betray anyone’s trust more than I have the potential to tonight.”

Her eyes widen again.