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Hiseyes widened enough to give away their fury. “Thisis ridiculous.Youdon’t care what other people think.You’rejust hung up onRoseeven thoughI’vebeen telling you for days that you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Ishook my head. “I’vegot to talk to her first.”
“No, you don’t.Nothinghappened withRose.”
“Istill need her to tell me it’s okay.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“BecauseIdon’t want to be this awful of a person.”
Usingevery ounce of strength,IpushedDamonaway from me.Hewasn’t receptive, and it seemed he wanted to argue more.Eventually,Damonreleased the grip.
Glancingat my phone,Irealized it was almost nine thirty. “It’sgetting late.Weshould head toXtasy.”
Damonwatched me quietly.Hisfrosty expression left no room for diplomacy, shredding his wholesome persona.Hespoke in a tone made of ice. "I’llcallMiguel.”
* * *
DAMON
“Surprise!”
“HappyBirthday!”
Istepped inside the bar to ear-shattering screams, flashing lights, and one too many cameras for a birthday party.
Cadengave me a one-shoulder hug. “Thebig two-five.Youcan rent a car.Can’twait to join you tomorrow.”
Despitebeing twins,CadenandIdidn’t share a birthday.Iwas ten minutes older, born at eleven fifty-five at night.Mybrother was born after twelve, and his birthday was tomorrow.
Iwished it weren’t the case soCadencould take the attention off me becauseIwas ready to punch someone.Mymorning was jam-packed with meetings, andPoppy’sevening was predetermined by her weekly visits with her parents.Sherecently gave up her dorm room and moved into an apartment in the city.EveryFriday,Zanesent a town car to her new apartment, demanding she drop by to make her mother happy, and to make matters worse,Zane’sproperty had more security than theWhiteHouse.Icouldn’t access it, andPoppywouldn’t be home until ten o’clock, which meant it had been twenty-four hours sinceIlaid eyes on her.
Iwanted to burn the world to the ground.
Itried staying busy.Aftergraduating college,Istarted working as co-CEOwith my uncle atMaxwellCorp.Withina week of not seeingPoppyconsistently,Iwas going out of my mind.Ibartered with my uncle to return for a part-timeMBA.
“Whydo you need anMBA?Youare the fuckingCEO,” he had said incredulously.
Itwas a valid question without a logical answer.Ineeded an excuse to access the campus on an ongoing basis.Onlystudents could access places like the library wherePoppystudied every evening or the cafeteria where she often grabbed lunch or dinner.Icouldn’t wait until the weekend to see her.Ichose the longest part-timeMBAprogram and signed up for it.Eventhat was ending in six months.
Thethought further dampened my mood.Everythingpissed me off nowadays, andIwas in no condition to socialize.
Foryears, my brother suspected my feelings, though he never confronted me.Hewas tired of my grouchiness.Whenhe asked to meet up for a birthday drink,Iagreed, thinkingIcould kill some time beforePoppyreturned.
Apparently,Dadmade other plans.Thebar had been transformed into aPRcircus.
“HappyBirthday, kiddo.”Dadhugged me, but not before turning sideways so someone with a camera could capture this million-dollar father-son moment.
Ireplied with a curt nod.
“Lookwho finally showed up to their own birthday party.”Jasperslapped me on the back.
Ireplied with my signature cranky look.
Cadencaught sight of my torture, and the fucker smiled.Sometimes,Iwondered if he deliberately did things to make my life miserable.
Imarched straight to the bar and ordered a shot of vodka.Iwas antsy as fuck.Thiswas the worst day of the week, the day she went toSandsPoint.Ineeded something to get me through the next few hours.
