Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Tegan rolled his eyes. “You’re a fuckin’ drama queen. I’m not collecting ammo on you. The second I walk out of here, I’ll forget your name…again.”
I let out a humorless half laugh. “Yeah, right. Do you ever think it might be nice to be…oh, I don’t know…civil to each other? I don’t care if you don’t help me out. I figured the odds were slim, but do you have to be such a dick?”
He nodded profusely. “Yep, I do.”
“Why? It’s pointless. You make everyone miserable with your stupid ‘us against them’ bullshit.”
“Oh, please,” he huffed. “No one is miserable but you. And that’s ’cause you’re not getting your way. You’re used to flashing that pretty smile and having everyone do what you want. It doesn’t work on me. I’m immune, and I’m not falling for your BS. I told myself after the third—no, the fourth time you fucked me over, to watch out for you…from a safe distance. But being nice? That’s fake, and I don’t play those games.”
I clenched my fist and upped the intensity of my evil eye. When he curled his lips in response, I wanted to punch him. I had to get out of here before I did something stupid, like start a bar brawl I’d certainly lose. I stood slowly, pulled some cash from my wallet, and set it between our glasses.
“Well, thanks for nothing. It’s pretty much what I expected.” I squeezed his shoulder because I knew it would bug him and gave a bright smile that went nowhere near my eyes. “Later, T.”
Tegan captured my wrist. “That’s it? You’re giving up already?”
I knit my brows as I pulled out of his grasp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’. It just seemed like a…lazy request.” His studied nonchalance had a bite to it. “I’m surprised you wouldn’t try negotiating.”
“Negotiating? Like a trade-off or something?”
Tegan pointed at the stool I’d vacated meaningfully and waited for me to sit. “Sure. What d’ya got?”
“Uh…nothing.” Zilch, zip, nada. This conversation had officially taken a left turn. I had no idea where he was going with this, but it couldn’t be good. I narrowed my eyes and leaned in slightly. “You seem to have something in mind. Spill it.”
“I’m the one in the driver’s seat, Dec. It’s up to you to make me a deal I can’t refuse. You know where to find me.” He gulped the last of his water, somehow managing to make the gesture look badass as hell as he headed toward the rear exit.
I stared after him for a few beats, wondering what I could possibly have that Tegan might want. Nothing, the sensible part of my brain answered. He was baiting me to see how far he could push me before I lost my cool and gave him even more leverage.
We’d done this dance many times in the past. Usually I’d been the one daring him to do something stupid, like eat a whole hot chili pepper, jump off the pier into the ocean from a thirty-foot drop, or stuff his fist into his mouth. Granted, we’d been kids, but only one of those examples got us into trouble, and that was because a lifeguard unit had to save us when a strong rip current pulled us out to sea.
I think Tegan was grounded for a week while I got off scot-free. My mom wasn’t much of a disciplinarian. She was more pissed to get a phone call at work telling her to pick my ass up from the beach than worried that I might have drowned. What I remembered most about that particular mishap was Tegan’s silence. He wouldn’t talk to me for days afterward. The quiet was torture.
I’d lived with this quiet for years now. It stung and it gnawed at me, but I’d adjusted pretty well. And most days, I could forget why it was there in the first place. However, he changed the game just by showing up. And when he added a challenge, a dare, or a deal one of us couldn’t refuse, he had my undivided attention.
Which meant this was a reverse setup, and I should steer far, far away from Tegan.
So like a complete moron, I went after him instead.
2
Tegan
A cool gust of wind whipped through the alley behind the bar. I zipped my leather jacket, nodding a curt greeting to the guy puffing a cigarette against the brick façade as I slowly headed toward the studio. The operative word was “slowly,” ’cause any second now Declan would come tearing after me, demanding to know what the hell I meant. I’d tell him eventually, but in the meantime, I’d thoroughly enjoy stringing him along. He deserved a taste of his own medicine.
“Tegan!”
I bit back a smile and continued walking. He called my name a second time, grabbing my elbow when he caught up with me. I spared him a casual sideways glance. “Yeah?”