Playing Hard to Master (Masters Unleashed 2)

Augustine shook his head in disgust. “If you tell me this is about Shae, I’m going to start sending you to therapy. Enough is enough.”

“No,” he grumbled. Hadn’t he shown people lately that he was over her? Mostly. “This is about someone I just met.”

“And the problem is . . . ?”

He sucked more salt out of the meat-like substance, and looked across the lot at an older truck that he needed to sell. With the level of responsibility he had, he couldn’t let things escape his notice because he was distracted by Everly.

“I slept with her.”

In the gloom, Augustine’s eyebrow almost touched his hairline. “I’m failing to see the issue.” He folded his arms. “Seriously though. Sometimes things aren’t the best the first time or two. Did you have performance issues? Did she use her teeth too much?”

Despite his agitation, Ambrose barked a laugh. “No. I just . . . like her too much.” He closed his door. The wind was picking up, and he could see his breath in the cab.

His brother sighed and rubbed a hand over his regal face. Augustine had somehow turned out looking like aristocracy. With his slim build and classic features, he made Ambrose look like even more of a brute by comparison.

He looked out the window for a moment, his gaze following the progress of a security guard who was checking the lot, then glanced back at Ambrose.

“You know I love you, man, but you have to stop sabotaging yourself. Shae blindsided you, but you’ve let it ruin your life for too long. And Kate? I’m not even going to go there.” He sighed, sounding exasperated.

“I’m not sabotaging myself. I just don’t want to rush into anything. The only problem is, she makes me want to rush every time I’m around her.” He grabbed another piece of jerky and shredded it between his fingers. It was probably better for him than eating it.

“If you like her and she likes you, you just need to pull your head out of your ass.” Augustine opened his door and slid to the ground. “Go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow, quit being an idiot.”

He closed the door behind him, and Ambrose stared after him long after he’d gone.

Chapter Five

Everly walked into the sandwich shop and spotted her mom in the back corner straightaway. Her hair—a bleached-out curly mess—made her stand out, especially at her age. Lysette was a stubborn woman with her own sense of style and wouldn’t let Everly touch her hair even when she begged. The woman had no class. Then again, Everly should probably have outgrown her purple streaks, or hot pink panels, or whatever current ’do she felt like giving herself too. Like mother, like daughter.

She approached the table then put her hands up in the air. “Victory!”

Her mom’s face lit up. “You won?”

“Yup.” After pulling out the chair from across her mother, she placed her purse on the floor and sat down. “We had close to a hundred protesters. I was shocked.”

“Wow.” Lysette smiled. “Good for you.”

Sighing happily, she shrugged off her coat. “The no-freeze shelter will stay open another season.”

“You have a year until your next fight.”

“Ugh.” She picked up the menu. “Don’t remind me. Did you order?”

“No. I was waiting for you. I’ll pay today. To celebrate.”

She didn’t usually let her mom pay when they went out, but today she would. She knew it made her feel good—like she was making up for a lacking childhood or something. Everly didn’t see it that way, but there was no swaying her mom. That stubborn streak had gone directly to Everly, but it was also the reason she

was alive. Pregnant at a young age, pressured by her family and boyfriend to have an abortion, Lysette had lost all financial footing when she’d refused.

It was hard to imagine the strength it took to make that kind of decision, knowing you’d be alone forever. Lysette’s parents had been born privileged and were given every opportunity out there for wealthy white kids, but because her mother had made one mistake, they’d turned her into the black sheep of the family. Because she’d chosen to keep Everly, as was her right as a mom and human being, they’d made their own daughter’s life a living hell.

Lysette may have forgiven them, but that didn’t mean Everly had. When she’d been a child, she’d wanted tangible things like kids at school had—the newest My Little Ponies, fancy light-up sneakers, a bike with tassels. But now that she was an adult, she was grateful things had turned out the way they had. Living in and out of shelters and relying on welfare had been tough, but it’d made her tough—and grateful and appreciative. If she’d grown up with her grandparents, where would she be right now? Wall Street? Walking by homeless people with her nose turned up? It disgusted her to think she could have turned out that way.

“I think I’m going to get a salad,” Lysette said, eyes on the menu. “I’m on a diet.”

“Again?” Everly chuckled. Her mom was perpetually on a diet, which she broke on and off as it suited her. “You need to embrace your curves.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can be as confident as you are. I take no credit for that one.”