Page 33 of Beyond Question

I nearly chuckle at that thought; we’re more alike than I realized. And now, here I am, refusing to give up on Paige.

What can I say? I see something I want and I go after it.

And man, do I want her.

But back to the bastards. Other than the two of us, who, truthfully, still have a laundry list of flaws, the men in our circle are unscrupulous and, many of them, dangerous.

I don’t blame any mother for warning her children away from men like that.

But there’s more to this story, and now that my mind has wandered to the part where we might be dangerous, I have a feeling I’m on the right track.

“You’ve lived in New York your whole life, right?” I ask and Bronte nods. “Where is your mom originally from, here as well?”

“No.” Bronte shakes her head, but then she pulls her glasses down, hiding her eyes from me, and I lean forward becausethat was odd.“She’s not from New York.”

She doesn’t expound on that and I didn’t expect her to. Not when she hid her eyes from me.

“You don’t know where she’s from?”

“Somewhere in Europe; that’s all I know.”

Europe?I try to think back to every conversation Paige and I have had, but I can’t recall a single hint of an accent.

Bronte licks her lips, then gives her head a subtle shake and dismisses my questions with the flick of her slender wrist. “What we need to focus on now is changing her mind about you. I think I should call her.”

The words catch me off guard and I nearly choke on my champagne. “Now?”

“No, Travis, jeez. Relax.” She snorts, and the sound is so similar to that little snort-chuckle her mom does that my chest tightens. “The last thing we need is for her to see us together again, don’t you think?”

“Right. Yeah.”

But I can’t deny that pinch of disappointment in my chest.

What has Paige done to me? I barely recognize myself. I’m sitting across from a knockout who—I know from firsthand experience—is fantastic in bed and more than willing.

And all I can think about is Paige Matthews, a woman who has made it a point to turn me down.

Repeatedly.

“I think, if I explain that what we were doing together meant nothing, maybe she’ll give you a chance.”

I nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. She wasn’t too thrilled when I said it.” I wince as I recount that moment and my extreme dumpster fire of words. “I didn’t deliver it very well; maybe you’ll do better.”

“Oh god, what did you say?”

I wave her off. “Nothing really… basically what you just said… that it meant nothing.”

Bronte’s nose scrunches. “Somehow, I doubt she appreciated that. I’ve never really let her know about my sexlife.” She laughs and it’s the most self-conscious sound I’ve ever heard from her. “She doesn’t know I’m quite as…freeas I am.”

“Free, right.” I clink my glass against hers and wink. “To freedom.”

“Tomyfreedom, you mean.” She raises her glass again. “And to you dating my mom.”

“That sounds weird as hell, but… yeah. Cheers.” I laugh, then clink my glass against hers again because I fucking hope that’s the eventual outcome.

Chapter Eleven

Paige

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