Page 37 of Cream Pie

I grin, shaking my head. Max and I go pretty far back, actually. We were in the same Marine platoon in Afghanistan, and probably managed to save each other’s asses from more than our fair share of things that go boom. Back stateside, we were in the same business program at Columbia, but after that we headed in different directions. I found work with La Société Rouge, and Max, in a twist of kismet, ended up working for Marshall. We’d sort of lost touch a little for a year or so there, so it was a nice surprise to find out our mutual connection once I moved to Bane Financial and put the pieces together.

“How about you?” I nod my chin at him. “Get into any trouble last night?”

He scowls. “No. Well…” he frowns again. “Not exactly.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying you struck out.”

He flips me off, and I start to laugh before his look turns serious, and my brow furrows.

“What?”

He scowls. “Listen, man, I was actually going to try and find you this morning. I think…” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m probably wrong.”

“What is it?”

Max rakes his fingers over the blond stubble on his jaw and takes a slow breath before letting it out.

“Dude, I think I saw Jackie last night.”

My gut sinks, and something cold cuts into me.

“Are you fucking with me?”

“Would I seriously fuck with you about that shit?” he mutters. “No, man. Look, it was from a distance. I’m just being paranoid on your behalf is all.” Max shrugs. “It couldn’t have actually been that psycho bitch.”

“It could,” I growl quietly.

Max frowns. “I mean, she’s not that crazy enough to show up here in Thai—”

“Yes, she is.”

My voice is like cold steel as the tense anger grips me inside. I look at Max unflinchingly.

“Yeah, she is.”

He nods, muttering. “Shit. Sorry to be the messenger, man. I’ll keep an eye out and tell the resort security.”

I nod slowly, only half hearing him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“You got it. Catch you at breakfast?”

I nod again, and he claps me on the shoulder before heading off.

Fuck.

Whatever glowing high I was on leaving Amy just now, the shadow of fucking Jackie sours it all, and that’s what I hate the most about it. Fuck, I mean, I never want to see her crazy ass again, and there’s more than a few legal documents and restraining orders that back me up. But if it was just me having to deal with running into her, fine. Not my idea of a good time, but I can deal with crazy.

It’s that she’s cast a shadow over this pure bliss I’ve found with the most off-limits girl in the world—like she’s this looming storm cloud over our little escape. That’s what pisses me the fuck off.

You better not actually be here, I mutter to myself as I turn down a path and head to my own bungalow.

Inside, I make a quick check of the closets and under the bed, feeling like a paranoid psycho. But believe me, it’s warranted when it comes to that woman. I lock the door and finally breathe easy before I head to the shower to clean up before breakfast with Marshall and Kendall.

Yeah, that’s going to be fun after my activities last night.

The newlyweds had their escape last night, but they’re not actually leaving for a real honeymoon for a few days. They both had some stuff to wrap up at home first, so we’re actuallyall flying back this afternoon on the same private jet—Marshall, Kendall, Amy, and me.

Fuck me sideways.

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