Page 22

White-hot anger surged through me. I lunged across the table, scattering chips and cards as I grabbed the front of Jack’s shirt. “Don’t you ever say shit like that about her again,” I snarled, my face inches from his.
“Here we go again,” Archer sighed, collecting the scattered cards. “Jack, stop antagonizing people and stop being a dick.” He elbowed Jack, who turned his stone-cold glare on his best friend.
“Thank God we don’t have real fucking money on the line for this game. You’d have messed up the pot and ended the night assholes,” Trey muttered.
Not that any of us needed the money. The game was a way for us to connect, but even more so the excuse we used to conduct our less than legal dealings.
I let go and eased myself back to my side of the table.
“Fuck you,” Jack spat. “We all know Killian was devastated when she chose that fucker. We were the ones that had to pick him up and put him back together. Excuse me if I don’t give a shit about PeterorTrissa.”
Luke sighed. “Jack makes a good point. Is it a good idea to start talking to her again?”
“I’m not exactly talking to her,” I grumbled, running a hand through the curls of my shoulder-length hair. I returned to my seat, the chair scraping against the floor.
“Are you fucking her?” Trey asked bluntly, crossing his arms. His expression made it clear what he thought about that idea.
“I’m not fucking her.” I tipped my head and stared at the ornate ceiling, tracing the intricate pattern with my eyes. “She wants me to love coach her or some shit.”
The sip Jack had taken spewed out across the table, dousing the cards and the green felt mat. Archer whacked his shoulder blades as he wheezed in his next breath.
Trey raised an eyebrow, dabbing at his sleeve with a napkin. “I think I speak for all of us when I say, what the fuck, Killian? And what the fuck is a love coach?”
I shook my head, reaching for the decanter again. “It’s teaching her how to attract guys.” I only knew what it was because of my conversation with Trissa and a quick online search as I walked from the restaurant to the back room. “I’m going to say no.”
“You haven’t already? This just keeps getting better and better,” Jack muttered, wiping his chin.
“Killian, you’re only lying to yourself,” Luke said softly, his eyes knowing and concerned.
I shrugged. This is why I didn’t want to say anything. I’d been devastated when Trissa chose Peter. It didn’t matter that I’d been the one to walk away without a word from our friendship. That I stopped hanging out with them, then stopped answering text messages or phone calls.
I’d barely slept or showered for weeks afterward. These men were the reason I got over that heartbreak and decided love just wasn’t fucking worth it if it hurt that much.
“Why?” Luke asked, as we all picked up the cards on the table and tossed them in a nearby garbage bin. Then he grabbed a fresh deck and dealt a new hand.
“Why what?” I groaned. I was already tired of talking about this. My head was a mess, and the heart I had successfully caged all those years ago was beating at the bars to be released.
“Why would you help her?”
I looked at my new cards: pocket aces. The irony wasn’t lost on me—going from the worst to the best blind—I pushedforward the little blind. “Honestly, I think if I do, maybe it will finally allow me to let go of her.”
“I get it.” Luke nodded, tossing in the big blind. “I’m afraid to ask who she wants you to help her with.”
I winced, and the table fell silent. The only sound was the soft rustle of cards as he checked his hole cards.
“No,” Jack pushed to stand, his hands on the table, towering over me. “No fucking way.”
I grinned, a humorless expression that felt more like a grimace. “I did have half a mind to say yes and fuck with both of them. To let her think I’m helping when really I’m just sabotaging her chances with Peter.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Trey frowned, his chips clicking together as he contemplated his bet.
“We’re all assholes to some degree, but if you do that there’s no coming back from it, Killian,” Luke reminded me, his voice soft but firm. “If Trissa found out …”
He didn’t need to finish that statement. “Maybe I’d want her to.” A sick, twisted part of me wanted to inflict the same hurt she’d dished out on me all those years ago.
“They deserve any pain he wants to rain down on them,” Jack growled, throwing his chips into the pot with more force than necessary.
Archer crossed his arms over his chest, his cards forgotten. “I’m with Jack. Neither one of them gave a shit about you, Killian. Go forth with the fuckery is my vote.”