Page 83 of Power
I watched him, resentment building in my chest. How did he do it? How did Axel float through life, sampling women like wine vintages, while I was over here, drowning in feelings I’d never wanted?
Ryker poured himself a neat whiskey and smirked. “Rich, coming from you. Last week, you spent three hours describing a bartender’s, and I quote, ‘transcendent legs.’”
“I talk about the beauty of women,” Axel clarified, dealing cards. “Emotions are ugly. Like Ryker’s attempt at a beard last summer.”
The chips stilled in my hand. Must be nice, treating emotions like an optional side dish. Meanwhile, I’d cannonballed into the deep end for a woman I could never have.
“Besides,” Axel added with his trademark smirk, “those were exceptional legs.”
“Will you shut up?” I snapped. “We all know the emotionless-playboy act is bullshit.”
Axel’s trademark smirk vanished, and something flashed in his eyes I rarely saw. Something raw and unguarded. The transformation was so quick, I almost missed it before his walls slammed back into place.
“You know, that’s the second time you’ve said that recently,” he said, voice quiet but tight. “If you have something to say, Jace, just say it.”
The room went silent. Blake and Ryker exchanged glances,suddenly very interested in their cards. We’d rarely ever heard that tone from Axel before. It wasn’t his usual defensiveness or sarcasm. This was different. This was real.
That was when I realized I’d stumbled on to something he didn’t want anyone to see. The carefully constructed image of Axel—the carefree playboy with a different woman every night, the guy who joked about everything and took nothing seriously—had cracked, just for a second.
I’d always suspected his exaggerated womanizing was a shield. It was why I’d said that, twice by his count, but now, I was certain. The more outrageous his stories, the fewer questions people asked. The more he played up being shallow, the less anyone looked for depth. It was brilliant really: hide in plain sight behind a reputation so consistent, no one bothered to look past it.
Who the hell was I to throw that in his face, especially when I had my own problems?
I ran a hand over my face. “Sorry,” I managed. “I’m on edge.”
His eyes held mine like he was deciding whether to let me off the hook or finally have it out with me. Then the moment passed, and Axel was back to smirking and shuffling cards.
“This is exactly why I avoid dating. Emotions make you lose all sense, dude. Look at Blake.” He nodded to him. “He texted from the jeweler, wanting our approval, picking out an engagement ring.”
“Opinion,” Blake corrected, placing a small velvet box on the table. “I’ve never bought one before. I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
“You came to the wrong club if you think we’ll have the first clue,” Ryker said, examining his cards with exaggerated interest. “Half of us are emotionally stunted, and the other half are … well, Axel.”
“Screw you very much,” Axel replied cheerfully, then picked up the box with a low whistle. “Better not take her on a boat. She’ll sink to the bottom of the lake with this rock weighing her down.”
“Too much?” Blake looked legitimately concerned.
“Depends. Does she like being able to lift her hand?” Axel arched a brow.
Ryker snatched the box from Axel. “It’s nice, man. Tessa will lose her mind.”
“Speaking of losing minds,” Blake said, reclaiming the ring. “Scarlett. She doing okay? Tess mentioned something about a tense meeting at work between you two.”
I sighed, letting my cards fall face down. “Scarlett’s turned out to be a worthy adversary. I knew she was fierce, but, damn …” I shook my head, remembering the fire in her eyes. “I just had a conference-room showdown with her that made me fall even deeper.”
Fall even deeper? Did I just say that?
“Oh?” Blake asked, a hint of genuine curiosity breaking through his usual reserve.
“She stood up to me—to ME—in front of the entire team. Played a game of chess and won. Most people can’t even maintain eye contact with me in those meetings.”
“So, she yelled at you, and that made you horny?” Axel asked, raising the bet. “That’s some next-level masochism. I’m both disgusted and impressed.”
I glared. “It wasn’t like that. She was brilliant. Fierce. It was …”
“Hot?” supplied Axel.
“Impressive,” I corrected, though the heat crawling up my neck betrayed me.
