Page 6 of Mensa's Match

Finn lifted his beer bottle toward Mensa. “I stand by what I said months ago. One night, make an approach and hate-fuck her out of your system.”

Mensa glowered at Finn.

Block laughed. “No way. That shit don’t work. I’m proof.”

Finn smirked. “Yeah, and you’re happier for it.”

Block gave a small nod.

Mensa downed the rest of his drink and made another. “Block, you never hated Heidi.” He shifted his gaze to Finn. “It isn’t the same sitch here, Finn. Back off.”

Har leaned forward. “I want to know what you said to her at lunch. Her reaction made it clear she wanted to kick your ass.”

Mensa picked up his glass, ready to hit his room. “I told her to stay away from all of us or there’d be hell to pay.”

“You threatened her?” Block asked, his tone outraged.

“I’d never make good on it.”

“I don’t think she’ll give a damn about that, Mensa,” Block said.

Finn tossed his empty beer bottle into the trash. “Thought you were the smart one.”

“A woman can make any man crazy, Finn,” Har said.

A wide, knowing grin spread across Finn’s face. “You’re right, Prez, but Mensa says this isn’t like that.”

Mensa glowered at Finn. “Whatever. You assholes had your fun. I don’t plan to see her ever again. I’m headed to my room.”

Mensa closed his door just as his phone vibrated with a text. He opened the thread and saw a message from Cynic.

Tomorrow, you’re on for Open-Mic night

A half-hearted smile crossed his face. Part of him looked forward to the Open-Mic-slash-karaoke because he loved music so much. Another part of him hated it because it immediately brought Whitney to mind.

Last November, Sandy had roped Nadia and Whitney into helping her arrange an impromptu karaoke night at the clubhouse. The way Whitney had belted out “Devil Won’t Go” by Elle King made a lasting impression. She wasn’t as good as Riley, but she likely hadn’t had any training. He couldn’t deny that Whitney had a great fuckin’ voice.

Once he sent Cynic a text to tell him he’d be there, Mensa lay back on his bed with a book. Any other time, he’d watch a movie, but for the past three months he’d start a flick and compare the actress to Whitney. With her crystal blue eyes and shiny blonde hair, she was a stunner. Those fucking eyes, though – hersgleamed in a way he didn’t see from most women. She didn’t look like a California girl, she looked like the California girl’s cousin who could kick your ass if you said the wrong thing.

Fuck him, but he was curious about that. He had been since Finn and Riley tied the knot in the back yard of the clubhouse a month ago. Especially since Whitney had wasted no time cornering him to bitch about the tents. Someone – his money was on Victoria – had shared that he’d suggested the tents.

He’d more than suggested. He’d insisted on them in order to keep the women out of the clubhouse. Being insistent was risky, but Har had relented. It was good that he did, too, or Mensa might have lost his battle to his inexplicable attraction to Whitney.

All of Riley’s bridesmaids wore navy blue dresses, but they weren’t all the same type of dress. Whitney came down the aisle first in a halter-style gown, and Mensa’s fingers itched to tear the gauzy-looking fabric off her.

Recalling that vision of her, his mind wandered to what she was like in bed and he got angry with himself. The woman compared him to his crooked uncle, and the heat in her eyes made it clear she held a grudge against Mensa. There was no way he’d bring that woman to his bed. He snatched up his book with a disgruntled sigh, opened to the bookmark, and shoved thoughts of Whitney out of his mind.

Chapter 3

Silence

Whitney

Riley hurried inside HardPressed, her wavy, golden-brown hair in a ponytail swaying with her stride. She pointed at me. “You’re a liar.”

I bit down ever so subtly to hide my surprise.Did she find out about my assignment?

I hated being discovered. It was nerve-wracking during the best scenario, but in this case I could lose a friendship. One I had quickly come to value. Not that I didn’t value all friends, but Riley and I got on like we were sisters separated at birth. A friendship like that was rare, and I’d put off coming clean with her.

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