Page 13 of Twisted Redemption

“How could you say that to me?” she snaps, turning away. “How could you do that to her?”

“You were a pretty active participant in this too, if I recall correctly.”

Her shoulders sag, and she buries her head in her hands.

Fuck. Why the hell would I say that? I’ve been spending too much time with Alex lately. He must be rubbing off on me.

That’s not it, and you know it.

“Get out.” Her voice is small. Quiet. Devastated.

“Brooke, I’m sor-”

“Get out,” she yells, whirling around to glare at me. “I never should’ve trusted you. I never should’ve thought that you could care.”

For the third time today, she’s looking at me like I’m her enemy. But this time, along with the pain and hatred that seems to be ever-present in her eyes, there’s something else.

Shame.

Shame that I put there.

“Daisy...”

When her glare sharpens, I raise my hands in defeat. I’m tempted to leave something here again just so I can come back for it, but I have a feeling she isn’t going to let me back in here any time soon.

I pause before entering the mudroom. “Don’t forget to close the garage door. And set the damn alarm.”

Once I’m in the car, I slam the door and wait. Thirty seconds. A minute. Two. Finally, the door to the house opens, and I watch as Brooke leans out and presses the button to close the garage door.

Our gazes meet for a mere split second before she disappears back inside. But it’s just enough—just enough for the guilt to mix with a hot, lustful haze. One I told myself just this morning I wouldn’t give into.

What the hell was I thinking?

Charlie asked me specifically to keep my hands off of Brooke. I hadn’t told her I’d listen, but still. Our arrangement can only work if we fool everyone into thinking it’s real. And me, having my hands all over Brooke, kissing her, wanting her? It may be in secret, but I still gave in—I knocked over the first domino.

And the rest are sure to follow soon after.

CHAPTER THREE

BROOKE

THE WATER FROM the shower head pours over me as I sit on the cold, wet tiles. Nothing feels quite real. And me? I feel absolutely, positively full of self-hatred.

Why him? Why?

A year ago, he would’ve been the first person I turned to when I needed comfort. Hell, he was who I turned to. But now? Now he’s engaged to another woman, my attempt to fix our friendship thrown at my feet, and he’s so... hot and cold. One second, I swear he hates me—the next, his eyes are all over me.

And today, his hands. His mouth. And I almost got lost in it.

I can still feel the way he grabbed my ass as he lifted me up—or how his tongue flicked my clit. And his lips? On my own, on my neck, just the way I’ve imagined since I was in high school.

Despite the hot water, I shiver. It really was a dream come true, and my teenage self probably would’ve freaked if she found out she actually got to kiss Blaze Grayson.

But me, right now? All I feel is disgust, mixed with a bit of lust that only makes me hate myself more.

What the fuck was I thinking? When David cheated on me, I gave the other woman the benefit of the doubt. Because how could someone know that a person was engaged and still kiss them?

Or worse, I remind myself. Because David did worse. And I did, too, not even an hour ago.

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