Page 141 of Pretty Little Lies

Now it’s changed.

Everything has fucking changed. And, not only am I anxious about how this is all going to go down, Cairo’s right.

Reeve and I are both trippin’ on this girl who holds more power than we can allow. She can rip apart everything we’ve worked for. If Bay gives Emilio one slight inkling that she wants in, I’m not sure where that’s going to leave us.

We want away from Emilio.

Not with him.

And if Bay chooses him, she’s not with us anymore.

That alone is more devastating than it should be.

Entering the game room, it’s already full of people. Individuals who aren’t going to be getting a handful of being in my space because it’s my boys and the woman who troubles me.

She’s in Reeve’s arms, thick legs wrapped around his hips as she kisses him slow and fluidly. My best friend is rocking back and forth, keeping whatever dance they began with no music but the shit downstairs.

Cairo is nursing a drink in my black chaise, watching me walk into the scene playing out in front of me, looking unamused and slightly disturbed by it.

“What are you doing in here?” I ask him, curious as to why he’s not at his own fucking party.

“Steering clear because you flooded Vivian’s car, asshole.”

“So?” I wipe at my forehead, getting rid of some of the sweat still forming there. “I’m tired of that bitch thinking she can just show up where she’s not invited. Don’t act like you’re so bent out of shape about it.” I slide my gaze back to Bay and Reeve still making out like it’s impossible to keep their hands off each other.

“They’re both fucked up.”

“Eh, he needs it.” I drop my gym bag on the floor, which gains Bay’s undivided attention, breaking from Reeve’s lips and giving me one of those sultry smirks. “And apparently, so do I.”

“Pretty Boy.” Unwrapping her legs from around Reeve, she drops to her feet. Shredded jeans show off teases of skin at herthighs and the black crop top she’s wearing leaves shit to the imagination.

She strides over to me on a mission, and I can’t help my cock from getting hard. Those blue eyes are like black holes that vacuum you in without a choice. You’re going in, you’re stuck, and there’s no fucking way out but in.

“Hey, Wildfire,” I greet before she’s wrapping her arms around my neck. The smile gracing her face appears valid and true, as if she’s excited to see me. “What’s going on?”

“How was your game?”

“We won.” Her fingers play with the hair at my nape and my hand falls to one of her hips. “You havin’ a good time?”

She bobs her head before saying something that makes me want to laugh through my shock of it. “Cairo’s being a dickhead.”

Never thought I’d ever hear her say that someone was being mean to her and that it matters. Especially since Cairo hasn’t shown an ounce of interest—from up close anyway.

He’s a smart fuck, knows his limits, saw the danger coming a mile away. And while Reeve welcomes it, and I challenge it, Cairo observes it.

Again, the brains of the operation lately.

“Is he now?” I ask, flicking my eyes over her head to him. He shrugs, clearly not giving a shit, and for good reason.

“Tell him I didn’t flood his bitch’s car.”

She’s drunk as fuck.

I can smell the whiskey on her breath, mixed with jasmine or something rich. Her blue eyes are glossy and coated with liquor that has her caring that Cairo is being his usual dickhead.

My lips heave at her begging and having me take the con. “Why would I do that?”

“Because Isawyou.” She sends a withering glare toward Cairo, which lacks conviction and strength. “I have better thingsto do than waste my time on Vivian Muncy. Nice choice, by the way.”