Page 98 of Wicked Rockstar

How could I have been so blind? I’d considered these men my friends so long ago. I realized something else. “I hurt all of you when I let my relationship with Killian just fade away, too. I’m so sorry. I can see how it looked like I chose Peter over our friendship now.”

Their tight lips told me that my betrayal still cut deep. They had felt Killian’s pain as though it was their own.

I had to try to fix this. “And while I am more sorry than you could ever know, I need you to also see I wasn’t given a choice. You’re right that I was blind to how Killian felt about me and I hate that I hurt him like that, but he made a huge decision that affected both of us, and I never had the chance to weigh in on it.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

His complete lack of empathy sent a flame of anger surging through my veins. “Fuck you, Jack. Seriously? You can all hate Peter as much as you want, and I’m pretty pissed knowing that Killian’s deal wasn’t all that great, but youallcut us off. You cutmeoff. Not the other way around. You assumed I fucked Killian over along with Peter. Well, I didn’t. I had nothing to do with that. I never wanted to lose your friendships, and I certainlyneverwanted to lose Killian.”

We’d all screwed up. If someone had just said something, maybe all this pain could’ve been avoided.

My misplaced pain pining for Peter.

Killian’s pining for me.

Luke squirmed in his seat.

Archer winced.

Jack, still unconvinced, wasn’t going to let any of it go or give me the benefit of the doubt. “You still chose Peter, whether you had all the facts or not.”

“Maybe I did,” I responded, my voice scratchy with the agony that Peter’s stupidity and Killian’s omission had caused. “But it’s done, and we can either get past it or not.”

Luke and Archer gave me a chin nod, but Jack stared me down. It didn’t surprise me that he was the hold out.

I stood and pointed to the edge of the darkened space. Killian had kept the old Quarters table. It sat at the back of the room with a few guys on either side. It was only right to ‘fix’ things—old school. “Let’s settle this like we used to, Jack. Playing Quarters. If I win, you need to stop being an asshole and let us all enjoy the night. Maybe even give me another chance.”

Not one to back down from a challenge, Jack flashed a cocky grin. “Deal.”

“I’ll get the quarters,” Archer practically jumped off his stool and headed to the bar.

My stomach lurched.

“You don’t have to do this,” Luke implored. “Jack will get over it.”

I shook my head with a rueful smile. He’d misinterpreted my hesitation. “Now that we’re older, I’m just starting to wonder why we never questioned the cleanliness of the quarter when it hit the floor and we reused it.”

Luke threw his head back and laughed. “You’re a brave soul,” he teased.

I lightly whacked his arm. I’d missed this camaraderie.

By the time we arrived at the Quarters table, Jack had convinced the guys already there to move along. Although, with their wide eyes and the way Jack was signing used napkins, I’d bet money they were hockey fans.

Jack held up a large red plastic cup and a small shot glass. “Ladies’ choice.”

I narrowed my gaze. “What are you? A candy-ass pansy? It’salwaysthe big cup.”

Jack grunted. His sign of respect hadn’t changed much over the years. He placed it in the middle of the table. We stood across from each other while Luke grabbed another bucket of beer.

“How many until we determine a winner?” Archer asked, falling quickly into his old role of making sure we had the rules in place and everyone understood them.

“We stop at thirty.” I scrunched up my face to appear fierce and gave a firm nod. At this point. I was only pretending to be in total control of this situation.

Plot twist.

I was not.

Jack’s eyes sparkled with glee. Knowing him, he likely thought getting to thirty would be easy.

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