Page 26 of Arrogant Playboy

“Rosie? You didn't, did you?” Louis asks.

“No. I’m not a man whore like you,” I answer, irritated by this line of questioning from him.

“A reformed man whore, thank you very much.” He sneers at me, pointing his beer bottle in my direction.

I huff. “I’ve met Rosie before back in London.”

“Rosie?” Louis asks.

“Yeah, she’s an interior designer at Alex’s fiancée’s company.

Both Louis and Matthieu seem surprised by that admission.

“Well, Ava seemed smitten with you, not Rosie.” My cousin chuckles.

“She was being friendly,” I tell him.

“But your attention was being pulled by Rosie?” my brother questions me.

“We were talking, we have friends in common. I was being polite.”

“The way Ava was looking at you and you were looking at Rosie smells like a triangle to me.” Matthieu chuckles.

“Would you stop it. You’re acting like a gossiping woman.” I let my irritation about the subject boil over.

“Don’t fuck either of them around.”

It’s beenhours and we’ve moved on from the football game to some action movie that has me falling asleep. The sound of someone's phone pulls me from sleep and when I look over, I see it’s Louis’ and his face is white.

Shit.

The worldthat we knew implodes and my brother’s life changes in the blink of an eye.

“Are you okay?” I catch Rosie by herself while her friends rally around Emily. She shakes her head before bursting out crying, reaching out, I pull her into my arms and hug her tightly. She instantly pulls herself out of my arms and hugs herself.

“No, don’t. I don’t deserve an ounce of your sympathy.” She looks up at me, those green eyes haunted by what’s happened with Emily.

“Why would you think that?”

She shakes her head as the tears continue to stream down her face. “I should have been watching Emily. It’s my fault he took her. Me,” she says, thumping her chest.

My heart breaks for her. “No, this isn’t your fault. Yves is the monster.”

“No. I am. I’m the one who was kissing someone else while that man took her. I let some guy distract me from my friend.”

Her words hit like an arrow to the chest. She was with someone else tonight.It doesn’t matter, not now, not after what Emily has been through.

“This isn’t your fault, Rosie. How could you have known that would happened.” I try to reassure.

“I was trying to forget you,” she whispers.

My heart tightens in my chest. “Rosie,” I say her name softly as I reach out and pull her into my arms, she comes willingly this time. “I understand,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head.

“You should hate me, too,” she says, mumbling into my chest.

“I could never hate you,” I confess. Her arms come out and wrap around me tightly as she breaks down until she collapses.

I pick her up, take her back to a spare room, and tuck her into bed, I kiss the top of her head as she slides into sleep.

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