Page 40 of Wolf.e
“Dell is such a sweetheart, Lay. I’m so happy to be working with him,” Brinley says without looking away as she pours her red. The smug little smirk on her face is a toy I’m about to start playing with.
“You two were cute over there, he likes you,” I say, and the underlying tone of sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed by her.
I feel the eyes of my guys on me, particularly Jake who’s sitting beside me listening attentively.
Layla laughs. “No, they’re just comfortable, they’ve known each other since we were kids,” Layla says, speaking for Brinley before turning to say something to Ax.
I lean in so only Brinley can hear me. “Come to think of it, you’re not really his type.” My lips hover over her earlobe “We know everything about everyone, remember? And to be his type, you’d have to bemucholder and be ready to spank him if he doesn’t follow your every order.”
Brinley’s mouth goes from smirk to slack in one second and she looks to Dell then back to me. I lean back and sip my whiskey.
Her smug smile is gone, replaced by that flustered blush of her cheeks.
Muchbetter.
Chapter 21
Brinley
“You’re not hungry?” Wolfe asks as he carves his own steak.
I’ve been pushing my food around on my plate and listening to everyone at the table talk about random things that show just how well they all know each other.
“Just wondering why I’m here is all,” I say, looking up at him. “Every woman in this room has their eye on you.” And some bold ones have already approached him, to which he’s saidnoand if they don’t listen,fuck offbut I don’t bring that up.
He chews and swallows his bite, pondering what I asked.
“Do you ever say no, Brinley?” Wolfe asks, observing my expression as I blink at his question.
“Do you ever answer a question without a question?” I ask, taking a bite of my salad.
“Yes,” he says pointedly. “Now your turn. Do you ever say no?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately before I even consider it.
“You’re either misunderstanding me, or not answeringhonestly,” Wolfe says with an all-knowing smirk as he pulls a bottle of whiskey over from the center of the table and pours some into my glass, then his own.
“How so?” I take a sip, needing something—anything—to take the edge off.
“When people who are important to you—your parents, your friends, a boyfriend perhaps, maybe a coworker—if they asked you to do something, something you don’t necessarily want to do. Something that would make them feel happy or more comfortable, but compromises what you want, would you say no? Or would you say yes, only because you think you should do what you’re told?”
I look up in his hypnotizing eyes, the candlelight reflecting off their silver flecks, and for some reason, I answer honestly.
“I would probably do it so I didn’t disappoint them, but…” I start to defend myself. “That’s what you should do for people you care about.”
“Maybe,” Wolfe says, picking up my unused knife and toying with the sharp tip against the table.
“Sometimes you can say yes to help out, I suppose. But if youalwaysdo it, you start to lose the person you are and you start living for them. You aren’t your true self anymore, you’re whotheywant you to be.”
“And your point is? I like being nice,” I retort, my glass of wine and half a glass of whiskey giving me a little fuel.
I lean back in my chair, cross my ankles and fold my hands in my lap. I watch his eyes follow my actions.
“When you knew I wanted you to come and sit here, you didn’t hesitate to deny me,” Wolfe says, angling the point of the knife against the rustic wood table, the light glints off the blade as he speaks. “You said no right away, even though I’m sure youunderstood that Iwantedyou to sit with me.” He sets the knife down and waits for me to answer.
I gulp and think for a moment, trying to grasp at what he’s getting at so I can get ahead of it.
“I don’t know you, I guess I don’t feel like I owe you anything,” I say boldly. Looking up from the discarded knife, I lift my chin.
