Page 13 of Mastered by Them (Rose and Dagger #2)

Danica

“R oommate night!” Wallace yells, grabbing my wrist and yanking me into the house.

It feels weird to be back, like the house is a pair of shoes I used to wear daily, then stopped wearing for a while. Now when I put them on, they don’t quite fit the same. But the shoes never changed—my perception did.

“Thanks for letting me come back for this.” I follow him through the living room.

Wallace flips his long bangs out of his eyes. “Of course, Dani! I wish you’d brought Cackle, though. I miss the little bastard.”

“I don’t.” Elias frowns as he gets up from my favorite chair. “That’s a lie...I actually do.”

Rita runs in and beats Elias into hugging me, but then all three of them are on me, squeezing the breath from my lungs in the best kind of way. I feel tears in my eyes and quickly blink, hoping my roommates don’t notice.

I clear my throat. “So, what movie are we watching?”

Rita points to the TV, where her selection is queued up and ready to go.

I laugh. “Another World War II movie, huh?”

“This shit’s important.” She gives me a very serious look. “If we forget history, we’re doomed to repeat it.”

I try to come up with a glib retort, but I can’t. So I hold up the bag in my hand, instead. “Caramel popcorn?”

“Yes!” Wallace makes grabby hands.

We settle down to watch the movie. Elias even lets me have my favorite chair.

The show is a romance set against the backdrop of the war.

It’s full of tragedy, action, and violence amidst epic love.

Elias pretends to barf during one of the kissing scenes, but Wallace throws popcorn at him and he shapes up.

Once it’s over, we chat about what was good and bad about it. I’ve always loved movie nights with my roommates. Bickering over the plots and acting, talking about what’s good and what isn’t, keeps my brain engaged.

I wonder if I could do movie nights with Edmund and Troy. I can imagine some heated arguments turning into much more heated activities.

“There wasn’t enough murder.” Elias folds his arms across his chest, as if his word is final.

“Not enough murder?” Rita scoffs. “Like, a hundred thousand people died in that battle alone.”

Elias sighs. “You know what I mean. I like the mystery.”

“Elias, I’m a little worried about you, bro.” I root around in the nearly-empty popcorn bowl, searching for a stray piece among all the kernels.

“Not half as worried as you should be.” Wallace snorts. “You should see his new murder board.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Is there something you’d like to share with me, Elias?”

He leaps to his feet, fighting a grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

I watch, half fear, half amusement, as he hurries to his room and comes back with a tri-fold presentation board.

I look over at Rita and Wallace. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“We couldn’t stop him.” Rita laughs. “But we did talk him out of one of those giant rolling whiteboards like he sees on TV shows.”

The next hour passes with Elias arguing passionately about his “profile” of the killer.

While living with roommates was never a permanent desire of mine, I can’t deny I’ve grown to love these three with their bonkers quirks and idiosyncrasies.

But by the end of an hour talking about serial killers, I’m starting to think that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, and I could use a little absence from Elias at this point.

“Do you want to come back tomorrow for another movie night?” Rita asks as I’m about to leave.

“I can’t—I’m going to Mirarosa tomorrow.”

“With Edmund?” She stretches out his name and waggles her eyebrows.

I laugh. “Yes, with Edmund.”

And Troy.

I know I came into this engagement kicking and screaming, but there are some parts of it I’m thoroughly enjoying.

* * *

Troy

The Mirarosa boardwalk is a weird mix of tourist traps and genuine fun. Riders scream from rollercoasters and lines form at food booths. A farmer’s market takes up one end of the boardwalk.

Dani exclaims in excitement over every new thing. She speaks seriously with a ceramist about his art, asking questions about his process and how he runs his business. He, and many others, seem half in love with her by the time she’s moved on.

I love seeing her so carefree. She’s even nice to Edmund.

I wish I could be as carefree as her. Amber keeps texting and calling. I would block her, but that would only make her more determined. Last thing I want is her showing up in person again.

“Come on, Troy!” Dani grabs my hand and starts hauling me toward a booth advertising gourmet cotton candy. “Maybe it’ll take my mind off my feet.”

I allow her to tug me along. “Are your feet tired after all the walking?”

She nods. “It isn’t bad, though.”

I stop short so she’s forced to whirl around. Then I face away from her. “Piggy-back ride?”

“Heck yes!” She hops on and wraps her arms around my chest.

Edmund walks next to us, a thoughtful expression on his face.

After Dani is happily eating cotton candy and chatting with a young woman selling vegetables, Edmund takes me aside.

“Who keeps calling you?”

I scan the waterline, trying to hide my discomfort. “Nobody important.”

“Troy. You can talk to me.”

“Can I, though?”

“Fuck, yes, you can. Is this about me and Danica? Is that why you’ve been weird lately?”

I want to laugh. He can’t be serious right now. “It’s no big deal. Amber’s been calling.”

“The fuck? Amber?” His mouth tightens. “Why is she contacting you?”

“Does it matter? She’ll get bored after a while—she always does.”

“It matters a lot. She’s...she’s abusive, Troy. I don’t want you to get sucked back in.” Edmund looks genuinely worried.

Dani’s walking back to us, so I shake my head. “Drop it, okay? I have it under control.”

“Sure.” He nods. “Don’t forget the dirt you have on her. You want me to release it, or have someone else do it? Just hand it to me and say the word.”

* * *

Edmund

I watch Troy carefully for the rest of the day. I don’t like that Amber is back in touch with him. That woman has a heart of stone and an emotionally manipulative streak that puts cartoon villains to shame.

He seems just as much in love with Danica as always, but there’s a darker element to it, like he thinks she’ll be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice.

Is it Amber’s fault...or is it mine? I should talk to him again, but I need to figure out my own thoughts, first.

Danica steers us toward a photo booth. “Come on. Memories!”

Her excitement today is a surprise. She’s usually too mad to let herself have a good time, but all day she’s been throwing herself into fun. She’s choosing to enjoy herself, and it looks good on her.

Not that I don’t love a sulky, angry Danica, because I absolutely do. But her happiness is refreshing.

“Come on, guys!” She ducks into the booth.

I climb in after her, pausing when Troy doesn’t move to immediately follow me.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask.

He grunts. “Seems like a couples thing.”

I’m an asshole. I’ve known it my whole life. But never as much as I know it right the fuck now. I don’t want the garbage marriage my parents have, but is that really what things would look like if Troy and I were both with Danica?

What my parents lack—among things like compassion, affection, and love—is loyalty to each other. Theirs is a marriage full of scorn and betrayal, and most of that is because they have no loyalty.

Danica tugs me in close. I keep the curtain open, waiting for Troy.

“Come on, Troy,” Danica says. “It’s about to start taking photos; I already put in the tokens.”

He clambers in, his mouth a tense line.

I’ve never known anyone as loyal as Troy. With the exception of his time with Amber, he’s been at my side since we were kids.

If the three of us continued, all together as we’ve been doing, maybe it wouldn’t be the disaster I fear.

The camera flashes before any of us is ready. Danica laughs in time for it to flash again.

I tug her toward me for a deep kiss in time for the next flash, then lift her over my lap, pushing her toward Troy for the next one. Their noses bump.

“Ow!” Danica holds her nose, but tries again in time for the next picture.

They keep kissing, even after the final shutter sound.

“Please add more tokens,” an automatic voice says.

“Yes?” Danica asks.

“Yes.” I find some tokens in my pocket and feed them into the machine.

I kiss along Danica’s shoulder while she continues to kiss Troy. She even reaches for my hand. I hold hers. I’m here. I’m a part of this, too.

If the photo booth is flashing more pictures, I don’t notice. I’m too wrapped up in our girl.

Danica’s soft moan sounds so sweet in the tiny booth. With my free hand, I slide the sleeve of her t-shirt down, exposing more of her skin. I cup her tit, pinching through her bra, making her gasp against Troy’s mouth.

The photo booth’s automatic voice demands more tokens. I slot in everything in my pocket, unseeing, uncaring. I only want this needy, squirming girl.

She turns so she’s kissing me again. Her mouth is wet, lips swollen from Troy’s kisses. I do some calculated risk assessment and realize that no, we can’t get her off in a photo booth on this crowded Mirarosa boardwalk. As much as I want to…which is a fucking lot.

The camera flashes again, followed by the robotic voice demanding more tokens.

“That’s enough, angel,” I whisper.

“Noooo.” She clutches my forearm. “More photos?”

“If you want more kissing, we can do that somewhere else. Somewhere either more private, or with a consenting audience.” Salt would be perfect, but I don’t say so. Instead, I kiss the tip of her nose.

“I really hate you.” She flips her hair in my face.

I laugh. “You’re gonna pay for that later, princess.”

I’m glad I cut the make-out session short, because when we emerge from the booth, there’s a line of cranky-looking tourists waiting their turns.

Danica clutches our photo album’s worth of pictures to her chest so nobody can see just how risque things got in that booth.

Troy tries to pry them from her hands, but she shakes her head. “We should burn these.”

“Come on, let us see,” he insists.

She tucks them into her bag. “Maybe later.”

We spend the next couple of hours walking around. Troy gives Danica more piggy-back rides. We tease her about the photos from the booth, but she won’t hand them over.

The day is winding down, the crowds getting crazier, the boardwalk sultrier. We’re all hungry after walking around, so Troy volunteers to grab pizza slices from a booth that must be good because the line is long.

I sit with Danica on a bench overlooking the ocean.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” She gives me a shy smile. “I didn’t want to come at first, but this was fun.”

“Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go—I’ll take you, Danica. I need you to know that.”

Her smile falls. “You think you can buy me.”

“What?” I feel like she just slugged me in the gut. “No. Not at all. I want to see you happy.”

“You’re trying to manipulate me, like my granddad has done.” The words are more than an accusation—they slice like knives.

“That’s not it.” I have to convince her of this.

It might be the most important conversation we have.

“Please, listen. I don’t want to manipulate.

..fuck. I can see why it looks that way.

Hell, maybe I am manipulating our relationship, subconsciously.

I really want you to like me. Because I like you. ”

She laughs softly. “I thought we hated each other.”

Taking a risk, I reach for her hand. When she doesn’t pull away, I grin. “We can hate each other too, if you want.”

“If you hate me like you did at the engagement party, I could probably get on board with that.”

My cock hardens at the reminder. She tasted so sweet, and she’d been absolutely stunning as she came on my mouth and fingers. “I’ll hate you like that anytime.”

She nods. I don’t know if she believes what I said about liking her, but I feel like we’ve made more of a start with this than any of the arguments I’ve been pushing. Maybe we could make this work. And maybe I can get over my hang-ups about loyalty, and let it work with Troy.