Page 39 of Hold On Me

“I’m a successful business owner, so I disagree, but whatever.” Clearly offended, he stands up and heads toward the kitchen as Jenson whistles through his teeth.

“Well, now you’ve done it. You upset his fragile little ego. You gotta fix it, bro.” He’s back to leaning on his chair, and it takes all my strength not to push him over.

“Fine.” Huffing out a breath, I stand up as his laughter fills my ears. I quickly kick the back leg of his chair, laughing as heflies backward and crashes to the floor. I lean over his wheezing form. “As a professional athlete, I would’ve expected you to have better reflexes than that, Brady. Would be a shame for your boss to find out you’re lacking— Oh, wait…”

I smugly stand and stride out of the room to his mutters of ‘son of a…’.

A gentle laugh falls from my lips as I cross the threshold of the kitchen to find Jameson pouring a whiskey. He turns and hands it to me, clearly expecting me to follow him to the table and chairs in the middle of the room. “What's the catch?” Before I take it I want to make sure it’s not laced with laxatives or something. These Bradys are tricky.

“No catch. And it’s safe, look.” He takes a small sip and then continues to offer it to me. I gingerly accept the glass, worried it might explode or something. “I realised as I flounced off we weren’t being entirely fair. You don’t owe us anything. But you looked troubled, and family means being able to share your worries without judgement. Figured I should remind you of that, brother.”

Shit. It’s the Jameson guilt vibe. I hang my head and take a sip of the drink. I’m not used to being in a family, having brothers and people I can depend on, and it’s hard to navigate. Especially when you throw into the mix the awkward encounters I’ve had with their ‘sister.’

A small part wants to tell him everything. How I feel about her. What I want with her. But as much as I feel drawn to her, I can’t let go of the niggling thought that she has the potential to ruin me. I take a seat and sip the drink as he sits opposite and watches me. I straighten my tie, look him in the eye, and take a sip of whiskey. “Joke’s on you. There’s nothing to tell. Thanks for the whiskey, bro. Now are we playing poker or what?”

After abruptly standing from my seat I call the last bit over my shoulder as I stride back into the living room and clapJenson on the shoulder. He flinches, then punches me lightly in the side as I walk by. I can’t give this up. Any of this.

The kiss never happened. And it can’t happen again. No matter how fucking turned on I am by the memory of her lips.

“And that, my friends, is a straight flush. Thank you for your money.”

Jenson throws his cards on the table and lets out a loud fuck as I swoop the cash from the center of the table with glee.

“Maybe you should learn how to control that tell of yours and you wouldn’t be broke right now.”

“I don’t have a tell. You just got lucky,” he bites back, and Jameson’s scoff is loud enough that I don’t need to react. “What’s my tell?”

I mime zipping my lips and smirk when he huffs a breath out and turns toward his brother. But just as he’s about to launch into a tirade, the door opens and Jameson grins at both of us.

“Just in time. We’re in here,” he calls over his shoulder, eyes fixed on mine, silently telling me exactly who’s just walked into his house.

“Hey, you got room for more?” Angie’s London accent calls through the hall as she appears in front of us.

I blow a breath of relief out and continue sliding the notes over to my side of the table. Jameson’s eyes are watching me, waiting, like a predator toying with its prey. I shake the feeling off and fold the money into neat little piles, my gaze avoiding his, but a tingle flits up my spine and the hair on the back of my neck starts to rise. This time, when I bring my eyes up, I know she’s there. His blue eyes pierce into the side of my head, waiting forany reaction. And I know, as my eyes land on hers, he can see everything. Shit.

22

PENNY

I’m going to kill him. I’ll wrap my hands around his neck and enjoy squeezing the life out of him. Mama will probably be upset with me, but it’ll be worth it. I trusted him. What a mistake to make. All those years of friendship blown out the window.

Because Jameson Brady is now dead to me.

Dramatic much? Maybe. Am I still going to kill him? Maybe not. But I’ll hurt him that’s for sure.

He promised me. I specifically called and asked him if Ben was going to game night. He told me no. An outright lie. I would never have agreed to come here if I’d known, and he knew that.

I told him what happened with Ben—how I ran away like a damn coward, and how anxious I was about having to see him again. So what does he do? He sets me up. And no less than a couple of hours after the damn kiss.

My eyes lock onto deep chocolate ones, forcing my mind back to the elevator. Reliving the memory of his soft pillowy lips against my own. Tasting him, letting our tongues stroke against each other. Knowing he wanted me as much as I wanted him right there and then.

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and watch his eyes zero in on it, turn even darker, his stare scorching me from across the room.

“Penny?” Angie calls my name and I snatch my gaze from his. The glee in Jameson’s baby blues confirms he didn’t miss that little interaction, and now I’m definitely going to kill him. Sorry Mama, but your son is going down.

“Angie, Pen, I thought you’d never get here. Ben’s on a winning streak, we’ve lost enough money, and Jenson is pouting. Now that you’re here we can play another game. How about spin the bottle?”

He waggles his brows at me and I take a step toward him with my fists clenched. I’ll punch his pretty face in right here, right now. I don’t care who sees it.