“You ready to blow?” I asked Bailey when I reached her.
I could have kissed her when she said yes without putting to words the humiliation she’d witnessed.
I paid the tab quickly. Bailey was on a budget and we both knew it. She’d gone out for me when she’d much rather have stayed home with a book, so I took care of the expenses.
As if fate wanted a repeat performance of my mortification, Striker was still out front when we exited. To give my fantasies more to work with, he was on a tricked-out Harley, smoking a cigarette.
I pulled up my big girl pants and strode to the curb to hail a cab, which showed how off my game was. I normally used my Uber app, but it was too late to pull that move. Instead, I continued to ignore the guy who knew he was better-looking than any man in a ten-block radius.
Striker was speaking to another biker who, unlike Striker, had taken notice of us.
“I can give you a ride,” that guy said, eyes dropping to my tomboy cleavage.
“Don’t bother with the princess,” Striker said to him.
“Why not?” the guy asked. “I’d bend a knee to get some of that.”
I couldn’t stop the coy smile from growing on my face. At least someone appreciated all the hard work I’d put into looking like this tonight.
Striker flicked the cigarette to the payment, revved the engine, and said in words that could be heard over the noise, “A girl like her only wants to brag to her friends about slumming.”
As Striker’s Harley disappeared down the street, I lost my cool and yelled, “Bastard.”
“Hey, I don’t mind if you slum with me,” the guy said.
It didn’t matter what that guy looked like—I wasn’t a second-best kind of girl. So I ignored him and raised my hand to hail the approaching cab, which came to a stop next to us. Bailey slid next to me in the back seat, the pair of us speechless.
Silently, I worked on coming to terms with double mortification. Never had I ever been so thoroughly put in my place. Bailey seemed to be at a loss as well, or she didn’t want to add to my shame.
Still, that part of me that never wanted to lose wished for a second chance to turn the tables and bring Striker to heel.OneWeeks laterThe Chicago sky was a mottled gray, the same color as my thought. It held my attention as Matt drove us from the airport where he’d picked me up.
Part of the reason I’d come to see my brother was to fill the hole Bailey left when she’d been swept overseas by her man.
Just call me a jealous bitch.
I didn’t want to be. Not of Bailey, my best friend in all the world, the one who deserved to win the jackpot when it came to men. Kalen was rich, gorgeous, and a sex god, judging by the noises that had come from her room before she had left for Scotland.
Who wouldn’t be envious of winning a man prize such as him? Me. At least I shouldn’t be. I didn’t want a rich man. I hated the money game and had steered clear of any guy with a bank account that rivaled mine.
“What are you thinking about?” Matty asked.
I looked at my brother. “You mean you can’t read my mind? I am your twin,” I said, exaggerating every word.
He rolled his eyes and went back to paying attention to the road. When he didn’t laugh as I’d expected, I turned the tables on him. He seemed nervous.
“What’s going on with you?” Since I trusted him and knew he’d never lie to me, I ignored the few beats of dead air and waited for his answer.
“I’ve got to tell you something and you can’t tell Mom and Dad.” He ran a hand through his hair and added, “Or anyone.”
“Just spit it out,” I said, worrying about the seriousness in his tone.
“It’s about my job.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Your job? Don’t worry. I’m not looking for your undivided attention while I’m in town. As I told you, I’m here to meet with Haven.”
Haven was an amazing up-and-coming artist based out of Chicago. My trip here would serve the dual purpose of checking on my brother while also securing more of Haven’s art for my next art show.
I’d told Matty about Haven, but he must have been distracted because he asked, “Haven? A new friend?”
“No. I don’t know her other than her art. I’m here for a face-to-face to see if I can convince her to give me more for an upcoming show. Don’t you remember that conversation?” I angled my head so I could see him better, given he wasn’t looking at me but at the road.
“It’s just a bad time.”
I let the arch of my eyebrow say it all.