Page 17 of Just Between Us

Annie sighed, lost in the dramatic romance of it all. MJ squeezed her sister Sylvie’s hand. Perhaps the King women suspected, as I did, that things with their father were likely going to get only worse.

I was hung up on the mention of Russell King’s name, especially with it attached to some kind of small-town love triangle.

I wondered whether there was something there. Something that caused an otherwise ridiculously wealthy businessman to choose to stay in his small town rather than operate solely out of a larger city. From a business perspective, there would be no reason to do that. Something was off there.

I tucked that nugget deep into my brain and refocused on the women who’d continued the conversation around me. Lark left to refresh her beverage and returned with two hot-pink drinks. She handed one across to me. “Try this one—it’s a delight.”

I sipped, instantly feeling the burn of alcohol. I coughed and almost choked. “Delicious.” I grunted to clear my throat. Apparently these women weren’t fucking around with the booze.

The conversation shifted to Sloane and Abel’s upcoming nuptials. MJ slapped a hand against her thigh. “It’s official. You’re coming.”

My attention settled on her. Her optimism and sunshine were unrivaled.

“You should,” Sylvie added with a nod. Her warm brown eyes were soft and kind. “It will be fun. Plus it’ll give you a chance to get to know some of the family and locals. Everyone will be there.”

I glanced at the open, friendly faces of the Bluebirds. I’d never had that—friendships where people accepted you just as you were. Women who didn’t know you but were willing to look past your guarded exterior just to have the opportunity to learn more.

I thought about a younger Veda, sad and friendless, who so desperately wanted a sister but instead was an only child. I didn’t know how to play with dolls and pretend kitchens. I was into numbers and puzzles, even at a young age.

I’d learned results got praise—good grades, teacher accolades, scholarships. Being driven didn’t leave a lot of time for nurturing friendships.

I swallowed down the lump of emotion that built in my throat. “Yeah.” I cleared the tightness. “I’ll think about it.”

MJ squealed, dancing her feet on the carpet and launching into a new story.

I frowned as she prattled on, knowing full well attending the wedding meant their brother Royal would be there too. I had spent the better part of a week trying not to think about how deliciously dangerous he looked in person and fighting the urge to redownload Pulse.

For a fleeting moment I thought maybe I could just pretend to not know that the hottest man I’d ever seen in real life also happened to occasionally send me secret nudes and videos of him stroking his cock.

I stared into my cup for a single beat before I shot back the remainder of my hot-pink drink with a single gulp.

Here goes nothing.

SIX

ROYAL

Sloane and Abelcouldn’t have planned a prettier day for their wedding. Well ... their second one, as it were. Everyone had been relieved when they’d decided to marry without my father in attendance. Abel had started his rebellion against our father by secretly marrying Sloane and buying Abel’s Brewery out from under King Equities.

At first the marriage was supposed to be a business tactic, but it turned out things weren’t quite as fake between the two after all. My gaze sank to my shoes as a pit formed in my stomach. He deserved this, and I envied him.

For the past few years, I’d secretly let myself be consumed with the endorphins and false high I got from the Pulse app, but it was nothing like what Abel and Sloane shared.

It wasn’treal.

I slipped my phone from my pocket to check my messages in the app. My apology message toMsBlackCathad been read, but there was no response. I should have known better than to impulsively attempt to video chat her without asking.

Typical.

While the slight sting of rejection was there, I recognized it for what it was—a small blow to my ego. Deep down I hadalways known that whatever I was doing on Pulse wasn’t rooted in reality. I used the fantasy to numb out just as much as the viewers did.

I sighed. Maybe it was time for a hard reset.

A thousand reasons for why I should just delete the app bounced in my brain, but I simply couldn’t do it. I told myself it all came down to money. I’d poured every ounce of my shop’s profit back into my tattoo business—high-end furniture, top-of-the-line machines, competitive wages for everyone who worked there. With my father owning the building, I needed more liquid cash if I was going to finally get out from under him while protecting what I had built.

I needed the money ... I also neededher.

In some sick way the mysterious online woman had a hold on me I couldn’t explain. Our banter was fun, and she was intriguing. Despite my gut telling me to delete the app altogether, it felt oddly wrong to ghost her without any kind of explanation.

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