Page 33 of Bad Blood

That’s a good question. One I’ve been thinking about since Liam told me. Wait. What are we talking about?

“I’ll be there.” I go with the last thing I remember. Definitely my safest bet.

She groans into the phone. “You already said that. You’re not listening.”

“I’m a selfish asshole. We know this.”

“That’s beside the point. Focus, Dax. Switch gears—We’re moving to Liam.” She enunciates his name, each syllable rolling off her tongue. She doesn’t miss a beat and tells me what she thinks we should do, like it’s a goddamn superpower.

It hits me. She knows far too much. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Dumb question.” The sound of fingers flying across a keyboard gets me to focus. “You better not complicate things.”

“What are you talking about? I would never risk Liam.”

She chuckles. “Need me to spell it out?”

“I’ll behave.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“This is different.” I have no interest in fucking things up. “I wouldn’t risk anything that has to do with Liam.”

She coughs and sputters. The sound of a drowning person replaces the slurping noise Bree was making before as if she were searching for air.

“You okay?”

“Fuck you.” Comes out as fragmented garble as she tries to get control of herself.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Now that I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out, I get Axel back on his leash and walk the last mile out of the park. Going to the apartment is faster than backtracking to the nearest fountain.

“I don’t get it . . .” She trails off. Once again, I’ve lost track of the appropriate response to our one-sided conversation.

I’m sure this is one of those moments where I can stay quiet, and it would be the smart move, but her comment piqued my interest. Something tells me it has to do with my supposed magnetism for disaster.

True to form, I take the bait. “Get what?”

“Why do you guys act like it’s no big deal to hook up with anything with legs?” She once again switches gears, and I wish I hadn’t asked.

“That’s an insult.” I’m not sure when our conversation took a turn for the worse, but my sex life is not a topic she gets to breach.

“It’s the truth.”

“I’m selective.”

“Lies.”

Axel knows our route with no need for guidance. He leads me to the sidewalk outside the park. We stop with the crowd at the intersection.

“You need to give me more credit than that. I’m not Garrett.” Why do I always get lumped in with him? He’s the one with the bad reputation. Sure, girls throw themselves at us like candy, but only Garrett takes them up on every offer. She expects us models to play nice, but having Garrett around is never an imposition. He may be a disrespectful asshat when it comes to women, but he’s had my back for as long as I can remember. He’s also gotten me into more trouble than I care to remember.

“I think it’s a model thing.” She ignores my comment, trying to make sense of why us guys only tend to think with our dicks.

“Or it’s an asshole thing.”

“That too.” She is paying attention.

The crosswalk light changes and Axel leads us through the crowd, always needing to be in the front. “It hurts that you think so little of me.”

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