Page 30 of Broken Rivalry

I snicker, pushing it back at him. “You do realize we have the same card, right?”

He pushes the card toward me again. “Yes, but I’m her date—I pay for the dress. I am a gentleman, after all.”

I roll my eyes, pushing the card back. “Come on, man, don’t overplay your role. I need you to—”

He slams his hand on the counter, his voice sharp, the playful glint in his eyes now gone. “Buy the fucking dress, Ethan, and move on.”

I whistle. “Okay, Mr. Romance Psycho, I’ll make her buy the most expensive thing there is and have her pick shoes to go with it.”

He nods approvingly. “And get the dress in red; it really suits her,” he adds before retreating to his room, leaving me shaking my head in amused disbelief.

I’m left in a momentary silence, pondering his abrupt mood swings, when suddenly, Liam’s laughter echoes from the living room, pulling me from my thoughts.

I look up to see him leaning against the doorframe of his room. “Now I need to find someone for Morticia.”

“She’s a pretty thing; it shouldn’t be that hard,” he replies with a playful glint in his eyes.

“She’s dangerous.”

“Like a slow loris?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“A what?”

“You know, slow loris.”

I look at him, still not computing.

“Those little guys are about the size of a teddy bear and look like a miniature Ewok, but they’ll bite if they feel threatened, and their bites are laced with a deadly, fast-acting poison.”

“Yeah, something like that,” I muse. “I see… How do you even know this type of shit?”

He pauses, a contemplative expression crossing his features. “I’ll be her date.”

My mouth hangs open, too surprised to say something right away. Liam doesn’t date students, and it’s something he makes abundantly clear to every girl coming on to him at parties, after the game, basically everywhere he goes.

“You don’t have to,” I manage to stammer out.

“I know,” he responds, a secretive, almost mischievous smile playing on his lips before he retreats back to his room.

What on earth is happening today?

With a shake of my head, I grab my keys and head to my car, driving to meet the girls at the mall. My car, spacious and luxurious, seems too empty, and I can’t help but feel a pang of annoyance remembering how Poppy immediately refused my offer to give them a ride.

They spill out of the aged Chevrolet, a cascade of laughter and chatter following them. Leaning against my polished Lexus SUV, I’m struck by their preference for the worn, cramped car over the spacious luxury I had offered.

What wouldn’t she do to limit her time with you? A voice whispers insidiously in my mind, and it stings more than I care to admit.

“Hi,” Poppy greets and my smile forms instinctively when I see her eyes quickly scan me, an appreciative blush on her cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” I say softly. She waves a dismissive hand, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. I mean it, though. Even clad in skinny jeans and a thick blue cable sweater, she takes my breath away, an effortless allure that she seems blissfully unaware of.

Eva, eyeing me from under her glasses, has eyes that are gentle and curious. She seems too sweet, too gentle for Cole. He’s going to devour her whole.

I look up to catch Nessa’s sarcastic, mocking blue gaze, noting how much she reminds me of Cole.

She smirks, looking somewhat devious. “Small Prick, don’t even dream of treating us like we’re your harem,” she greets, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I can’t help but laugh. Despite her abrasiveness, I kind of like the girl. “Perish the thought, Morticia,” I retort with a playful smirk, “some of us do have standards, after all.”

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