Page 72 of Play Fast (Brooklyn Dawn 2)

We’d gotten back later in the evening after spending hours at the police department, and Oz and I had been…occupied for a while, but still. I couldn’t believe I’d slept that long.

Frowning, I looked over my shoulder at the other side of the bed. Well, in theory anyway, since I’d awakened sprawled in the middle. I patted the sheets. That side of the mattress was cool.

Now Oz not sleeping with me loomed a lot larger. Had he just stayed up all night? Where? Noah had taken the couch to sleep, so short of camping out in the not-so-comfortable chair, he didn’t have many options in the small cabin.

My chest tightened at the knock on the door. Not Oz. He didn’t knock. Not in his own place, and not with me.

Especially not now.

I took a deep breath and started to go to the door, before I remembered my current state of undress. Pretty sure Noah didn’t

want to see me in half undone lingerie. I glanced around and saw Oz’s hoodie on top of the trunk that had been shoved away from the foot of the bed.

After tugging it on—and pulling it down like a damn dress—I opened the door.

With one look at Noah’s face, I backed up. My calf hit the solid wood bed frame, but I barely noticed the flash of pain.

“He left, didn’t he?” My voice was dull. Hollow. I scarcely recognized it.

I didn’t give him time to answer before I turned toward the bag of my clothes Oz had set in the corner. My gaze tripped over the mangled bedding and ripped sheet, hanging somehow obscenely off the edge of the bed.

He tied you up to let you go.

I wasn’t sure how that made sense to me, but this was Oz we were talking about. I had always understood him under the bullshit.

Or so I’d believed, because I’d never really thought he would do this to me. Not after what had just happened between us.

Noah didn’t speak as I rooted through the bag of clothes Ever had put together for me. Turned out my little sister was the smart one.

I slept with him anyway. And it was amazing, which really sucks.

I drew out a green sweater with Rudolph the red-nose reindeer on the front. My sister really did not want me getting any—ever.

It made me laugh, the sound twisting into a sob as I clutched the sweater to my chest.

Noah’s moved closer, and I straightened, clinging to the ugly Christmas sweater I’d bought for a salon party one year and was now using as a fuzzy tear-collector.

“I’m okay.”

“Of course you are.” His brisk assurance bolstered me, and I threw back my shoulders.

“Yes, of course I am. Because boys are stupid.”

He cleared his throat. “Often.”

“Especially that one.”

“From where I’m standing, he’s a fucking moron right now.”

I smiled through my annoying tears. “How come you’re still single? Or is being married to your job truly a life choice?”

That’s right, Daze. He’s nice to you, so ask inappropriately prying questions.

Noah gripped the back of his neck. “You aren’t going to ask about him?”

“What’s to ask? He’s not here. He’s a prick.”

“I can’t argue with any of those things.”

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