“About as much as a hole in the head.”
He laughed. “Man, this isn’t going to go down well with Andy.”
Screw Andy, I wanted to respond, somehow holding it back. Andy was my brother—almost literally—and I loved him more than life itself, but I was sick and tired of him constantly watching over me, judging every move I made in this life.
Not that I could blame him. I’d hurt those he loved by my actions recently, but I couldn’t live under his constant surveillance much longer, either.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and blew out a heavy breath. “Jace, don’t make more of this than there needs to be. I was just checking on her safety, that’s all. It’s the decent thing to do. No one else seems to give a shit.”
“Ever the gentleman, huh?”
All I could do was roll my eyes at him.
“You sure there’s nothing more to it than that?” he asked.
“Not a damn thing.”
“I guess you won’t be bothered by the guy currently cosying up to Phoebe at the bar, then, will you?”
I turned quickly, feeling a strange kind of pinch in my chest when I saw Phoebe throw her head back in a fit of pure laughter before the guy next to her reached out to run his hand down her bare arm as though he had permission to touch her.
Everything around me turned red, and I had no idea why. The only thing I’d ever been jealous of in my life were those who still had their parents around, but looking at that fucker touching Phoebe elicited the same kind of stomach-churning response, and I didn’t like the lack of control I had over my own reactions.
A slap to my shoulder had me flinching hard, but I never tore my eyes away from Phoebe when Jace leaned into me and said, “Shit just got interesting, Cohen. Let’s try not to turn this holiday into a warzone, though, huh? This place is too pretty for everything to blow up in all our faces again all because of your inability to keep your dick out of the wrong girl.”
Chapter Seven
Phoebe
The night before remained a blur the next morning, no matter how hard I tried to bring it into focus, with only fragments of memories flashing through my mind as I stared up at the bright white ceiling of my bedroom in our apartment. A welcomed breeze blew in from the balcony doors, but even the fresh air forgot to bring any clarity with it.
How the hell did I get back here, and at what time?
I remembered illuminous shots that tasted like diesel.
I remembered the beach bar and the dancing.
I remembered feeling free.
I remembered Henry’s intense gaze, followed by the weird conversation we’d had before I’d thrown his own words back at him and walked away, unable to look at him for a second longer and keep my anger in check.
The rest of the night became fuzzy. There’d been a handsome guy trying to get my attention—one I should have run into the arms of had it not been for my rule of no men. He’d seemed nice. Too nice. The kind of ‘nice’ a woman loved to swim in, feeling safe, happy, and desired. Not the kind of ‘nice’ that made youwant to throw the rule book out, bend over, and let him spank you into next Tuesday.
Despite all that, we’d danced.
We’d flirted.
It had been… nice.
“What happened?” I whispered, pushing my hands through my hair and forcing myself to concentrate as an uneasy feeling tore through me.
There were flashes of Henry’s face from a distance, his eyes cast my way only for him to turn away the second I spotted him, like he didn’t care.
Bailey and Rhea checked in to see if I was okay with the handsome ‘nice’ guy whose name I couldn’t remember, and then…
I sat up in bed as another memory came to life—one of Bailey and Rhea glaring up at Henry, telling him to back off.
I’d charged over to them to ask what had been going on, only for Henry to lock himself up tightly, once again, his body rigid to the point of him looking ready to break in two with a simple push of my finger. He hadn’t dared to look down at me, instead keeping his gaze up over my head as though I hadn’t even existed.
