Page 40 of Recklessly Yours

Brittney: No.

Cece: Nope.

Rachel: Maybe a little.

Me: I already told you I’m not sleeping with Rhett’s friend.

Savannah: I saw you together at The Dock earlier this week. I’m calling bullshit.

Me: GIF of a woman rolling her eyes

Me: What’s with you lately?

Savannah: Don’t get me started.

Rachel: She’s going through a dry spell

Me: Wait, what?

Kelly: GIF of a woman shocked

Cece: GIF of a woman screaming NOOO!

Sarah: GIF of sad dog eyes

Me: Sorry, there will be no living vicariously through me.

Savannah: GIF saying that’s bullshit

Chapter Eighteen

HATTIE

TakingDylan Gray to Sunday family dinner had never crossed my mind before this week. He’d been to plenty of parties at our house over the years, but never one of these. Sunday dinner was just that. A time for my family to gather. My siblings brought their spouses and kids. If one of us was dating someone seriously, we might bring them as well. I hadn’t brought someone in over five years.

My parents and siblings knew why Dylan was coming with me, but still, it felt weird.

Not as weird, though, as how well he fit in.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been strange. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. I supposed it made sense, since he’d been friends with Rhett and Jackson for more than a decade.

“How’s the case coming?”

I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth and looked up at Kyle, who was sitting across the table. Was he asking me or Dylan? I glanced sideways at Dylan before meeting my brother’s gaze again.

Kyle tilted his head. “Something else happen?”

Setting my fork down, I cleared my throat. “The stalker is texting me again, but Dylan say’s that’s a good thing.”

Kyle shot Dylan a glare I couldn’t decipher. Was it because, like me, he didn’t understand how being threatened like that could possibly be positive?

Though I was struggling to comprehend the way Dylan saw things, I believed him, and I trusted him to know what was best. So I shrugged. “He says that means the stalker bought another burner phone, so this time, they might get him on tape.”

Beside me, Dylan let out a sigh and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kyle continued to glare, and Dylan looked like he was about to ask him what his problem was. My stomach sank. Great, a pissing contest between the two bossy, controlling men.

“That is good,” Rhett interjected, glancing over at Kyle. “Isn’t it?” Leave it to him to miss the tense vibes around the table.

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