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My bartender writes something down on a napkin, then slides it across the bar toward Quinn. “I’m off in two hours, if you’re giving up on the girls-only thing.”
“If I’m not bailing Wren out of jail for murdering one of these two, I’ll take you up on that.” Quinn offers him a playful smile as she carefully tucks the napkin in her purse.
“Wren,” I start, but she nails me to the wall with one frighteningly furious look.
“Nope. It’s not your turn to speak now.” Her head swivels back to Dash, and I throw up a silent thanks that he seems to be the focus of her fury. You never know with Wren.
“You.” She glares at Dash. “You want to buy me a drink?” Her voice is a mix between sugary sweet and, as my sisters would say,stabby. But this dipshit smiles anyway.
“Yeah, let me buy you a drink, and you can tell me what you’ve been up to.” He looks back at me in triumph, but even after spending their junior and senior years of high school together, he still doesn’t know Wren.
I step back and cross my arms over my chest, prepared to watch the show.
“Hmm...” She runs her finger along the pink liquor that was just poured into her martini glass, then sucks that finger between her lips. Dash swallows audibly.
What kind of fucking idiot would ever let her go?
This fucking asshole had her for two years and never appreciated what he had.
“Let’s see.,” She smiles sweetly—too sweet. “I went to California for my undergrad, like you and I always talked about doingtogether. I was a little heartbroken at first. But I threw myself into my classes and forgot about you pretty quickly.”
“Oooh...” She claps her hands together excitedly. “And after a few months, I started dating again. That’s when I finally found out what a real orgasm feels like. I mean, I knew from my vibrator. But you know, when you finally broke up with me, you kind of did me a favor. I hadn’t even realized what a pain in the ass faking an orgasm to appease someone else’s ego really was. Or that, technically, what you’re sporting is a micropenis. I mean, I’d heard of them, but before that, I hadn’t realized they were real.”
“You fucking bitch,” Dash sneers, and I step forward before Wren stops me with a palm to my chest.
“Think about it, Dash. If you hadn’t told everyone I was a lousy lay, and the only reason you stayed with me was becausehetold you to...” Her glare slices to me, and I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face.
The fuck?
“We’d probably be married with kids, and I’d still never know what good sex, or mind-blowing, soul-crushing orgasms could feel like. Or how I should refuse to settle for anything less. So thank you, Dash.” She cups his cheek, then throws her pink martini in his face, then very calmly watches him sputter as my bouncers immediately move to my side. “Don’t ever speak to me again. I deserve so much better than wasting even a single second more of my time on you.”
I nod toward the bouncers. “Get him out of my bar.”
“And you...” Wren directs her fiery gaze my way, but it’s lost a bit of the anger fueling it. “Don’t try to fight my fights for me.” She carefully places her glass back on the bar and smooths her hands down over her knee-length, dark-red leather skirt. “Not that Dash is worth a fight or even an ounce of my energy. But I’m not going to lie. I’ve been waiting to throw that drink for years. Fuck him for thinking he’d ever deserve my time again.”
Quinn jumps up from her barstool and wraps an arm around her friend. “Wren, I swear to God, if I swung that way, I’d totally do you right now. That was so badass.”
Wren blushes but smiles. “That’s not something I’ve ever been called before.”
When Quinn orders them another round of drinks and goes back to flirting with my bartender, Wren seems to run out of the adrenaline she had a minute ago. Her voice lowers, and there’s a visible shake in her hands. “I never understood how you could have known what that ass was doing back then and still not have told me. Not that it’s something I think about now, but I just don’t understand why.”
I see the vulnerability she’s failing to mask.
Something Wren has always done well.
I take her hand in mine and pull her behind me, even as she tries to dig her heels in and stand her ground. “No. I’m not going anywhere with you right now. I’m not in the mood for your Neanderthal games tonight, Kingston.” But a new fire lights her face, this one laced with excitement and anticipation. This one I know, and damn, I love that look on her.
“Don’t you know sometimes you just need to Neanderthal shit up, Red?” I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder, then turn toward Quinn as Wren smacks my back with her fists. “She’s got a ride home, Quinn.” I look to the bartender Quinn’s been flirting with. “The crowd’s dead tonight. Ask someone to cover for you, and you can get out of here early too.”
I don’t wait for either of them to reply as blood wooshes in my ears.
I’m done playing this game.
I’m done playing any game.
Whether she realizes it or not, I’ve played by her rules for fucking years, and now, I’m done.
“Put me down.” Wren’s legs fight against the arm I’ve got hooked around the backs of her thighs. “Kingston,” she shrieks. “I’m warning you.”
