Page 26 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“It’s my mom. She texted me this morning, demanding that I go to lunch with her and some Italian chick who’s apparently destined to have my babies.”

Luke whistles. “Man. No wonder you’re in such a bad mood, with all those Italian hotties getting thrown at you.”

“She might not even be hot,” I point out. “Mama wants grandchildren so badly, I think she’d set me up with anyone with a ponytail and a pulse.”

“No way,” Ryan scoffs. “Mama Bishop wants only the best for her son. I guarantee, whoever this chick is, she comes with all the bells and whistles. Probably cooks, too.”

“She’s coming to town for culinary school,” I admit reluctantly. “She could be Margot Robbie, for all I care. There’s no way I’m letting Mama think she can control who I date.”

“So you’re blowing your mom off?” Nate asks, raising his brows.

“I’m…shifting her on my schedule.”

Nate shakes his head. “Mama Bishop won’t stand for that for long.”

“Just go to the lunch, man,” Ryan says. “What’s the worst that could happen—she’s hot and Italian and can cook? Poor you.” The guys all chuckle, and even I fight a smile at his exaggerated frown. Then Ryan grins wider. “At least this chick’s age-appropriate. Remember when Luke’s baby sister had that massive crush on you? Following you around like a lost puppy?”

My hand tightens around my glass. No. I don’t want to remember this. I don’t want to go back to that awkward moment in time.

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Luke covers his eyes with his hands. “That was painful to watch. Brinley practically drooled whenever you walked in the house.”

Nate smirks. Even James’s mouth twitches. My mouth tastes dry and metallic. The whole thing is ancient history to them—a funny footnote from when we were teenagers, no sharper than any other embarrassing memory from adolescence. I’m the only one who saw how deep the damage went.

I still laugh along with them, because I have to. I have to pretend this is a funny joke, because that’s the only way to keep Brinley secret.

Because I laugh, the conversation quickly shifts back to private investigators. Nobody realizes that my stomach feels like it’s on the floor. For the guys, the whole conversation was nothing. For me, it’s a live grenade dressed up as a punchline.

Everyone’s talking, but I have no idea what they’re saying. Brinley’s face swims through my mind, except now she’s fourteen again. Her eyes shining with tears, her face a throbbing, painful red. It feels like I’ve betrayed her all over again.

“Beau.” Hearing my name, I startle. Luke locks eyes with me from across the table. “You’re being awfully chill about this.”

For a brief, terrifying moment, I think I’ve been caught. Somehow, he saw in my eyes what I’ve been doing with his sister. “About what?” I ask.

“The whole Peppermint thing?”

Thank god. He’s already forgotten the conversational twist toward his sister.

I shrug. “I just think we should be smart, not reckless.”

“Exactly,” James adds unexpectedly. “Let’s find all the possible suspects before we confront anybody.”

“Which is why I think we can’t rule out our exes,” Ryan says. “We should all come up with a list.”

Nate sighs. “You only care because you want to see if your list is the longest.”

“Can’t a guy be curious?” Ryan laughs.

Somehow, I make it to the end of poker night without saying anything stupid to draw more attention to myself. I still feel on edge, though. By the time I’m riding the elevator back up to my apartment, I feel ready to jump out of my skin.

Everything is just moving faster than I wanted to. I still haven’t answered Mama’s lunch invitation, and the Peppermint investigation is gaining traction fast. At least Brinley’s name wasn’t mentioned tonight, except as a childhood punchline nobody thought twice about. But I know it’s only a matter of time until something slips and Luke realizes there’s someone close to him with a whole lot of motive to ruin his life.

My entire life feels like a kitchen at full tilt—every burner going, every timer about to go off, and I’m the only one who knows the whole menu.

The thing about a kitchen at full tilt—there's always one burner you forgot about. The one that catches fire while you're saving the others.

8

BRINLEY