Page 34 of Dolls & Daggers
“Aww, shucks.” Bunny pouts, snapping her fingers in a dramatic swoop that sends her leather jacket slipping off one shoulder. “All right, all right. She’s getting better. I’ll give her that.”
I’m vaguelyaware of her ordering our drinks as I scan the bar for Wren and Hunter. Crushing disappointment floods my veins when I spot them at a pool table with two women. Ironically, one is blonde, and the other is brunette. I bristle as the darker-haired one latches onto Wren’s arm.
He smiles at her. That charming, panty-melting, all-teeth, full-lips smile that he’s only ever bestowed upon me when we first met. The brunette looks ready to climb onto the pool table and spread her legs right here in the middle of the bar. I’ve never killed a woman before, never harmed an innocent person whose only crime was occupying the attention of the man I’m lusting over, but there’s a first time for everything, right?
As if he feels my stare, Wren turns his head mid-sentence, his eyes meeting mine almost immediately. Twin pools of dark chocolate drag down my body, and just like earlier, they darken, his jaw clenching with such force I can see it from across the room.
He moves like he’s about to come over—but then stops. His gaze shifts to the entrance. I follow his line of sight and find Ryan stepping inside.
It’s the first time we’ve seen each other since he ghosted me at the bar weeks ago. He doesn’t notice Wren glaring at him, but when his gaze lands on me, he pauses.
“Hey,” I offer, still standing near the bar where Bunny has a stool saved for me.
“Hey,” he replies gruffly, pushing past without another word.
My brows knit. What the hell did I do to piss him off so badly that he won’t even speak to me?
“That was weird. What happened between you two?” Bunny asks.
“I have no idea.” I glance back toward Wren, only to find his focus once again on the brunette. My chest tightens. Shaking my head, I slide onto my stool and down two shots in quick succession. “I honestly don’t understand men.”
“Men don’t even understand men,” Bunny supplies with a sigh.
“Any progress with Hunter?”
“Why would there be progress with Hunter?” She shakes her head like she can’t believe I’d even ask such a question.
I flash her a knowing look, propping my elbows on the bar top and fixing my attention on the group across the way. “Do you know who those women are?”
Bunny snorts. “Nope. And I don’t care. Detective Dick can do whatever he wants with whomever he wants.”
“As long as it’s whateveryouwant and it’s withyou, right?” I don’t miss Hunter’s eyes darting to my friend,as if daring her to go over like she did last time. The game they keep playing with each other is confusing as hell—the longest foreplay I’ve ever witnessed between two people who want each other as badly as they do. He has to have the bluest balls ever.
She flips her blowout over one shoulder and shrugs, making eyes at a random guy sitting catty-corner from us—one who looks like he wants to eat her alive. She’ll give Hunter a dose of his own medicine without a second thought. It makes me wonder. If I do the same, will Wren come to intervene?
Or should I just go over and assert myself? What would he do if I stepped between them and staked a claim I have no right to?
After four shots of tequila, two tacos, and far too many fake-ass giggles from the brunette, I decide I’m ready to find out. Bunny is ignoring me anyway, half-sitting in the random dude’s lap while she keeps shooting Hunter glances, playing him at his own game—and winning. Hunter looks about ready to charge the guy with a crime he didn’t commit.
“Whoa, Love Dove.” Bunny grabs my arm as I slide off my stool and head toward the pool tables. “What are you doing?”
“What I do best.” I sharply turn back to the bar and down one more shot for good measure. “Taking control.”
Everything that happens next feels like something straight out of a cheesy early-2000s movie. I watch the train wreck unfold as if I’m having an out-of-body experience, secondhand embarrassment creeping up my spine.
Hunter sees me first, jerking his chin in my direction and murmuring something that makes Wren turn. Ignoring the woman standing too close to him, I hold his gaze and march right up. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
Wren’s brows pinch together, an unreadable expression flickering across his face before he schools his features and wraps an arm around the woman’s waist. “Actually, we were just about to leave.”
A wave of nausea rolls through me as he looks at her with a charming smile, reaching up to brush a stray hair from her face. Bitterness paralyzes me. I don’t know why it bothers me. I don’t understand why it…hurtsas my eyes bounce between them.
We’re nothing to each other. I was foolish to think otherwise. Wren is attracted to the Doll. To my alter ego—not me.
My cheeks heat, chest tightening with humiliation for even putting myself out there. We’ve been playing this game for weeks, and I keep losing by showing him I want him. But I don’t even want to play anymore.
I want to know him. To make a connection. Buteven if Wren wants me too, he’s made it clear he won’t act on it, and he’s never seemed interested in me personally.
Obsessions make us weak.My own words come back to me as I furiously blink back the tears that come for no reason other than the amount of tequila running through my bloodstream.
