Page 41 of Twisted Play
We had, more than once.
“Gin and tonic?” Rory asked, and I nodded.
“But just one,” I muttered. “I have to be at practice early tomorrow.” My burner phone buzzed.
I pulled it out, and Violetta and Sage raised their eyebrows. I shook my head, unwilling to explain why I had a second phone or how it related to my current financial situation.
The Devil
Call me.
Me
Can’t.
The Devil
Time is ticking. When will you start sending me information?
My lungs froze, unable to take in oxygen. I’d allowed thoughts of Tristan and our illicit moment in the library to distract me from the disaster that was my life instead of fixing it.
Me
Soon.
The Devil
Do I need to make an example of your father?
Me
No! Soon. I promise.
I shoved the phone into the bottom of my purse, determined to make the most of this rare night out with my best friends, only to find Sage holding my gaze.
“Who do I need to kill?”
The best thing about her was that I didn’t know if she was kidding or not.
My regular phone buzzed as Rory returned with our drinks.
Tristan
Look up, kitten.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I searched the bar.
Tristan
In the back, near the jukebox.
I found him surrounded by his teammates, smiling at me in a way that made me want to melt for him. He looked good—shoulders stretching a t-shirt that emphasized his muscles, and god, those fucking powerful thighs I’d straddled as he made me come in the library.
Cole stood beside him, suntanned, blond, with clear blue eyes the color of a summer sky, a filthy rich all-American boy who’d called me sparrow last week and set off the same butterflies in my belly as Tristan.
Tristan
Come here.
