Page 146 of Thrust & Throttle

“No,” I said. “I’m staying over here. Because I’m not sure I trust your mood right now.”

He rose from the couch. “I thought I knew you. I thought you wouldn’t hurt him. I thought—”

“Wait—what’s going on here?” I demanded. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I saw you,” he gritted out. “Having lunch with that fuckingsuit. In our booth. In our restaurant.”

“You were at O’Reilly’s,” I said and then immediately relaxed. “Got it. And you saw what you saw. Which was, what, exactly?”

“I saw him pay. And then I watched you hug him. Fuck, Willa, you were crawling all over him. I can’t believe—Duke’s stupidly in love with you. You know that. He’s been in love with you since we were kids. This is going to destroy him.”

“You want a beer?”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“That took the wind out of your sails,” I quipped. “Go on, keep accusing me of cheating on Duke. But while you do, I’m gonna have a beer. Because, Lord, it’s been a day. My own best friend thinks I’m a cheating hussy because he saw me hug someone at a restaurant. Wonderful.”

“Notsomeone.A man. A man I don’t recognize.” He squared his shoulders. “Well, explain it to me then.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” I snapped. “And I certainly won’t defend myself when you’ve already decided I’ve cheated.”

I marched over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer—one of Savage’s favorites—and yanked open the drawer to find a bottle opener.

After I took a long sip, I turned to face him. His jaw was clenched and judging by his countenance, I knew he was trying to rein in his emotions.

“Where’s the loyalty?” I asked quietly.

“I saw what I saw.”

“You don’t know what you saw, you idiot,” I said. “If I was cheating on Duke, do you really think I’d be that dumb to do it at our place? Where I know you eat at least twice a week?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and had the grace to look sheepish. “So you weren’t—aren’t—cheating on Duke?”

“No, doofus. I’m not cheating on Duke.” I took another sip of beer and finally kicked off my heels. “Oh, that’s better.”

“Well, are you going to tell me what it was?”

“Tell you before I tell Duke? I don’t think so.”

“So, it is about Duke?”

“No, jerk. It’s about Waverly.” I sighed. “The suit is Ansel Prescott, and he’s a colleague of Vance Raider.”

“Raider,” he repeated. “The club lawyer?”

“Yup.”

“Why are you seeing a lawyer?”

“Because I want legal guardianship of Waverly,” I said. “And I met with Ansel today to discuss it.”

His face fell. “Oh.”

“Yeah.Oh.”

“And?”

“And what?”

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