Page 134 of The Games We Play
“She knows.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Penny,” she said firmly. “Sheknows. She knows that we all know. She knows you came to me for help. She knows everything.”
Her tone was tight, urgent, like she was trying to stop the bomb, aka me, from going off.
Penny knew?
Fuck.
My stomach dropped like I’d been sucker-punched. Of course she’d be mad. I’d gone behind her back, used our friends like chess pieces to win her over. It was another secret stacked on the pile I swore I was done building.
I’d had a plan. I was going to tell her when it was all said and done, lay it out in one big, grand gesture, be honest and open. No more hiding.
Well, so much for that.
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to wipe away the regret settling deep in my gut. “Well… fuck. Now what?”
Aspen shrugged like it wasn’t her problem anymore.
“How’d she find out?”
“We had a girls’ night,” she said, wincing a little, “and it kind of… slipped out.”
Of course it did. Aspen’s as subtle as a damn megaphone.
“So she’s mad?” I asked, bracing myself.
Aspen tilted a shoulder and said coolly, “No.”
Just like that. Like it was nothing. The urgency in her voice from last night? Gone. Now she was calm, collected, and smirking even.
I narrowed my eyes. “You call me stating it’s an emergency and now you’re allzenabout it?”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, but I didn’t tell her that I was going to tell you that I told her.”
I squinted. “What? That sounded like complete gibberish.”
Aspen sighed with sass. “I didn’t tellPennythat I was going to tellyouthat she knew. Better?”
I shook my head. “Crystal clear.”
She smirked. “So, I suggest you start planning the big guns. The finale. The go-big-or-go-home moment.”
I stared at the counter, jaw tight, my bottom lip caught between my teeth.
The finale.
I already had something in the works… but it wasn’t big enough. Not forher. Not for everything we’d been through. She deserved more. Something undeniable. Something that would stop her in her tracks.
I stood to my full height, arms crossing over my chest as I began pacing behind the bar. Aspen’s eyes tracked me, back and forth, her curiosity barely contained. Moving helped me think. Helped the noise in my head organize into something real.
She didn’t speak—just watched, waiting.
Then it hit me.
I stopped mid-step, a slow grin spreading across my face as the idea took full shape. Aspen mirrored my smile, leaning forward on her elbows, eyes bright with anticipation.
