Page 29 of False Confidence

Jazz begrudgingly turned the book off and removed her headphones.

“Hi, love,” Cal said, standing and tugging Maggie into his arms the second she reached the desk.

Jazz rolled her eyes, smiling at them before looking resolutely away from Maggie and Cal as they made out in front of her. She was used to this. And she knew why Maggie was here; the longer she spent making out with Cal, the less time she’d have to grill Jazz. Maybe she could use this time to sneak away… But that would only delay the conversation. It was coming, whether she wanted it or not.

“Ahem,” she said, when she started to suspect Maggie and Cal were seconds from ripping their clothes off in front of her. “Please be mindful of the other people in the room before you start climbing each other.”

Neither of them looked remotely embarrassed when they broke apart.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, love?” Cal offered no apology as he took his seat and unabashedly patted his lap in invitation. Maggie looked longingly and sighed before shaking her head.

She held up a bag of subs from their favorite sandwich place. “I can’t. I’m here for Jazz, I’m afraid.”

“You’re afraid?” Jazz replied indignantly, while Cal raised a brow at the bag.

“I thought you seemed cheery this morning,” he said. “Good night?” It had been their college tradition for them to debrief their hookups with subs in their cars, and it was a tradition Cal was all too familiar with considering Jazz had once brought subs to the office to debrief Maggie on their first night together.

Fucking hell. She fought to keep a straight face as she looked at the father of the man who’d had his tongue all over her last night. “Yep.” She tried her best to look nonchalant. Under no circumstances did Cal need to know about this. She set her laptop on his desk and grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. “Let’s do this.”

“We’ll need to sit in your car. I was working at a site nearby, so I walked over,” Maggie said.

“Ah, what a shame. I got a ride this morning.” She didn’t elaborate—they didn’t need to know she’d forgotten to fill her gas tank again. It was bordering on embarrassing how often she forgot. Usually, she had to call Cal and ask him to pick her up on the way to work, but Liam had been more than happy to drive her, promising they’d grab a can of gas and swing by to pick her car up after she finished work. Since he was picking her up anyway, they were going to her apartment tonight, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t hoping he’d spend the night. She’d slept like a damn log in his arms after she’d gotten over her frustration.

And now she had an excuse not to sit in the car with Maggie. If they sat in the kitchen downstairs, she wouldn’t be able to ask her about Liam.

“Use my car,” Cal offered, grabbing his key fob from the desk and handing it to Maggie. “Do you need a ride home, Jazz?”

“I’m good. Thanks,” she said through semi-gritted teeth while Maggie hid her smile behind her hair.

She headed for the door while Maggie and Cal said a highly inappropriate goodbye.

Maggie and Jazz stood in silence as the elevator dropped them down into the parking garage. The silence, awkward on Jazz’s side, seemed almost amusing on Maggie’s, if the way her lip kept twitching was anything to go by.

The parking garage, while full of cars, was empty of people. Maggie slid into Cal’s driver’s seat while Jazz climbed into the passenger’s side, closing the door and sighing as the luxury seats enveloped her. She wasn’t a car snob, but she definitely was a comfy seat snob.

“Before I forget,” Maggie began, rummaging around in her bag and pulling out a manilla folder, “Liam asked me to give you this. He specifically told me I wasn’t allowed to look, but resigned himself to the fact that you would show me anyway.”

Jazz snorted, some of the tension between her and Maggie crumbling. She was being stupid. Maggie knew she and Liam were sleeping together, and she’d had plenty of opportunity since finding out to call and shout at her if she had that much of a problem with it. Would Jazz have answered? Of course not. But voicemails existed.

She and Maggie were best friends, and best friends gave each other shit for who they slept with. But they still showed up with subs to debrief. Girlhood or whatever.

Jazz turned the folder over in her hand, her stomach fluttering as she read the note in Liam’s perfect penmanship.

Extra credit, as promised. L x

She opened the folder and withdrew a stapled bundle of printer paper, snorting as she read the contents. It was a kink list, meant for her to rate them on a scale of one to five—one being the least likely to get her close, five being the most.

She scanned the list, whistling. “You definitely don’t want to see this.” Fuck knows where Liam had found it, but it was extensive. Maggie sighed and held a hand out, despite her warning.

“You listened to me talk about having sex with Cal for weeks when we first started hooking up?—”

“It wasn’t a hardship.”

“—the least I can do is listen to you now. I’ve just decided to pretend that Liam isn’t Cal’s kid. As much as I can, anyway.” She wrinkled her nose, and Jazz felt a wave of warmth for her best friend. She handed the list over, and Maggie’s eyes widened as she read over it.

“Christ. Okay. Just how kinky is he?” she asked, flipping the page.

Jazz hummed. “It’s complicated.”

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