Page 67 of Twisted Hearts
Callie makes a face and holds up her finger. “Wait, it’s not that Brooks douchebag, is it?”
I stiffen, my eyes snapping to hers. I’ve only briefly mentioned Brooks to her in passing, just in reference to high school. I haven’t mentioned his ridiculous “joining of the families” suggestion.
Nor have I told her what happened back in high school. I haven’t told anyone that, actually.
I can’t.
“How did you know about that?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Ares.”
Instantly, her face twists when my eyebrows fly up and I stare at her, open-mouthed.
“Okay, before you blow up, he didn’t knowingly tell me anything. I was over at his and Neve’s place and heard them talking about it when they thought I was in the other room.”
“Who’s Brooks?”
I ignore Dahlia’s question and look into my margarita, something cold and sharp twisting inside of me. Callie answers for me.
“Old high school boyfriend. He’s a douche. Dad’s a congressman or something.”
“He’s a senator,” I say coldly. My eyes raise to Dahlia’s. “It…didn’t end well. His father recently reached out to my uncle about Brooks and I marrying as some sort of political move.”
She makes a face. “Wow. Medieval much? Who the fuck even still gets arranged—”
She winces, whipping her gaze around to a glowering Callie.
“Shit. Sorry.”
Callie shrugs as she polishes off her drink. “Don’t be. That isnothappening, anyway. I’ll flee the country and buy a new face and change my identity before I marry Luca fucking Carveli. Gross.” She shivers. “But we’re getting off topic. We’re supposed to be ganging up on Eilish about the identity of her mysterious text-messager.”
“True.” Dahlia swivels back to me. “Well? It’snotthis Brooks wanker, is it?”
I groan, rolling my yes. “No! It’snotBrooks, okay?”
Shit. I realize I’ve slipped when I see the Cheshire Cat grin spread across Callie’s face.
“Aha! So youarechatting with someone!”
“No! C’mon, you know me. When would I have the time or interest for anything like that?”
Dahlia grins. “I mean, you could make time. You’ve got someone staring holes in the back of your head right now.”
I frown, turning to see a dark-haired, built, somewhat swarthy guy in an out-of-place suit leaning against the bar. Staring at me. He immediately glances away when I spot him, but I shiver.
I don’t think he’s an admirer.
There’s a good chance he’s one of Gavan’s men. Which is both an alarming and electrifying thought.
“Yeah, pass,” I mutter. When I turn back and see the insistent looks on their faces, I know this isn’t going away.
I sigh. Fuck it.
“Ugh, okay.Yes. Maybe I’ve been…seeing someone.”
That’s one word for it.
The two of them squeal.