Page 56 of Easton

“Yeah.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I watched your game earlier. I saw that you guys lost.”

“We did.” I sigh. “There was a lot going on yesterday.”

Claire scoffs. “So it would appear.”

Okay, she definitely knows.

I sit down on a chair by the sofa.

Normally I’d sit next to her, but with this shit going on, it just doesn’t seem right.

“So, you know?” I ask. “You saw the picture?”

She blows out a breath. “I sure did.”

“Claire, I can explain—”

“No,” she cuts me off, putting her hand up for emphasis. “There’s no need to say anything. You’re free to do whatever you want, Easton.”

I wince. Her words cut like a knife. I don’t want to be free to kiss other women. I want to fucking kiss her.

But I can’t tell her that. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Look what she just said to me.

“Claire,” I begin, because I still feel like she should know the whole truth, “I didn’t kiss that girl. She caught me off guard and kissed me. She was actually trying to hook up with Lennox.”

Claire chuffs, “That’s a funny way to hook up with him. I mean, by kissing you, Easton.”

She raises a brow, and damn, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she does care and is maybe even a little bit jealous.

Hmm, I hope so.

Sighing, I explain, “That chick is a puck bunny, Claire. When Lennox rejected her, she tried to hit on me.”

“Oh,” she says.

“By the way, the blog took that picture down.”

“Yeah, I know. Was that your doing?”

“Lennox made it happen.” I clarify, “Well, his agent did.”

Softly, she asks, “Is there a story I should know? Like, if there are any questions that come up about this situation, what do I say?”

“There actually is a story we should go with,” I say, still feeling like a jerk. “We’ll say Lennox bet that girl to kiss me, and she did. It meant nothing—it was just a wager. And, for the record, it truly didn’t mean anything anyway.”

“Okay,” she says. “I can go along with that.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Claire, again, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to even deal with this mess.”

In a snippy tone, she replies, “Just next time make sure no one is taking a picture when some strange girl is trying to make out with you.”

Okay, I deserve that.

Still, I tell her gruffly, “There won’t be a next time, Claire.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “How can you say that? Ugh! We really should have discussed this before we got married. But are you seriously telling me now that you don’t ever plan to kiss anyone? And what about sex, Easton? Have you taken a vow of chastity?”

Anger flares. “No, Claire.” I raise a damning brow. “Have you?”

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