Page 57 of In Doubt

Except when it comes to Giorgie Martinelli. Except right now.

Right now I don’t feel any of those things.

Right now I feel fucking murderous.

Storming back through the villa, I’m thankful to find Dylan in the kitchen, rustling up some snacks and cocktails for our guests. Reaching for a bottle of beer, I flick off the cap before slumping onto a stool next to him.

He looks up at me and frowns.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks.

“I just kissed her.”

“Giorgie?”

“Giorgie.”

“And what happened? Because you don’t look happy about it.”

“She kissed me back.”

“It was disappointing then? No fire after all.”

I let out a puff of air. “There was fire alright.”

“Then, what is the matter? This is good, right?”

“Yes. No. The fuck knows,” I say, throwing my arms in the air, sending beer splashing over the rim of my bottle and splashing against the countertop.

Dylan picks up a cloth and reaches over to wipe away the spillage.

“I know you’re worried about becoming mixed up with a girl you’re competing against, but this situation has been driving you crazy, mate. Something had to give eventually. I say you go with the flow.”

“That’s because you are a sentimental knobhead, who believes in true love.”

“And you don’t?”

I shrug. “My belief in true love died with my parent’s fucked up divorce.”

“You don’t love me?” Dylan teases.

“Yeah, I love you,” I concede. “But you know that’s different.”

Dylan grins and I twist the beer bottle in my hands, tearing the damp paper stuck to the glass.

“She told me something.” Dylan raises his eyebrows, sensing I’m finally reaching the crux of the matter. “She told me she wanted to take things slow because someone she trusted hurt her. And I just…” I look away towards the window, sunlight flooding through the glass, the air con whirling in the background.

“Who hurt her and what did they do?” Dylan asks with venom in his voice.

“I don’t know,” I say. “But when I find out …”

Dylan watches me as he sprinkles sugar over a tray of flat circular cakes. I wonder how he manages to knock up a feast even when we’re staying in the middle of nowhere. Then again the man is a genius when it comes to cooking. I’ve never eaten as well as I have since I joined this pack.

“And how about you?” Dylan says, brushing the sugar from his fingers and into the sink.

“Me?”

“She was kissing you back and then she told you this. What does it mean for you and her?”