Twisted Hate (Twisted 3)

“Trust me.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth to hide my shit-eating grin. This was like taking candy from a baby. “I’ve known her for years. The comparison really gets her going.”

“Sweet.” The bartender’s skeptical expression cleared, replaced with a delighted smile. “Thanks, man.” He clapped me on the shoulder and poured me another shot. “On the house.”

It was a free open bar so all the drinks were technically on the house, but I didn’t point that out. Instead, I lifted my glass in thanks and grinned harder when I pictured Jules’s reaction to being called JR by the bartender.

She was so predictable. She might as well mark all the buttons I could push with giant, glowing X’s.

And yet…

How do you know I haven’t already?

My glass paused at my lips for a fraction of a second before I shook my head and welcomed the fiery burn of tequila down my throat.

Still, her words echoed in my mind and drove me crazy with their ambiguity.

Who could’ve betrayed Jules? She’d never had a big fallout with Ava, Bridget, or Stella, nor had she had a real boyfriend in the years I’ve known her. Our aversion to committed relationships was one of the few things we had in common.

Was it a high school boyfriend who broke her heart? A family member who fucked her over?

My eyes drifted to the dance floor again. Jules was still dancing with abandon to a remix of the latest pop hit. Ava said something to her, and she threw her head back, her throaty laugh carrying over the music.

Sparkling dress. Sparkling eyes. Looking for all the world like any beautiful, carefree girl with the world at her feet.

How do you know I haven’t already?

I wondered what secrets Jules was hiding beneath that party girl exterior.

And, more importantly, I wondered why I cared.