Page 14 of Say Yes to the Nemesis

She’s younger, bratty, and worst of all, way too used to getting her own way. But she’s not a kid anymore, is she? And that’s the problem. She walks in with those big eyes and sharp tongue, and I feel… unsteady. I don’t like that. I have zero interest in being talked down to by someone who used to follow me around like a puppy and now thinks she’s the shit because she grew up and learned how to use eyeliner.

ButThe Last Kissis paying me three hundred thousand dollars to be their bachelor this season. That kind of money means safety. It means never having to tell Ellie there’s no dinner. I haven’t had to do that for years, but it doesn’t matter. I still wake up racked with guilt, fresh from a nightmare that nothing ever changed.

It means I can breathe at least for a little while. And that kind of money? I don’t say no to it.

I’ve saved every penny I’ve ever earned from hockey and endorsements. You don’t grow up the way I did and shake it off just because you signed a couple endorsement deals. You grow up hoarding paychecks and checking account balances like your life depends on it. Because once, mine did.

I refuse to go broke again. Ever. That kind of fear sticks with you. Trying to keep the teachers at your sister’s school in the dark about your parents vanishing. Being a kid and watching the lights get cut off, seeing your little sister cry when there’s no food in the fridge. It rewires your brain. Makes you hold on tight to anything that smells like security.

I scan the pub and spot my friends at a large round table near the front.

I walk over, clap Bennett on the back, and drop into the empty seat beside him. Jay and Gabe are already here, beers inhand. At the bar, I spot Reese in black jeans and a leather jacket, completely ignoring some guy trying to talk to her. That tracks.

Jay shifts so he’s sitting right next to me. He gives me a once-over, then frowns. “What happened to you? You look terrible.”

I let out a sigh. “I’m fine.”

A waitress drops off several pitchers of beer, and I take a long pull from my pint glass.

Bennett smirks. “Thirsty?”

I set the glass down and push it away. “Just needed a drink. It’s been that kind of day.”

The front door swings open again, the bell clanging above it.

Jay’s wife, Calla, steps inside. Her jet-black hair is damp from the rain, and she shakes off a few drops as she enters. Behind her is her sister, Cora, who looks like a slightly sharper, more intimidating version of Calla. Same hair, same golden-tan skin, same smile.

They’re laughing about something as they walk in, and Jay instantly stands. His entire face changes when he sees Calla. He looks at her like she hung the damn moon. Like she’s some kind of myth made into flesh.

She heads straight for him, arms open.

He wraps her up and kisses her like he hasn’t seen her in weeks. “I missed you,” he growls against her mouth.

I roll my eyes.

It’s not that I begrudge him the relationship. Calla’s great for him. She’s warm and funny and grounded. It’s just… a lot sometimes.

The bell rings again, and I notice Cora has paused, waiting for someone.

Then I see a flash of copper-red hair and know exactly who it is.

Wren.

Of course, it’s Wren.

She’s still wearing that ridiculous dark trench coat. Her makeup is heavy. Cat-eye liner, bright red lipstick. It’s all the more infuriating because it works on her. Like… really works.Damn.

I have the same thought I had earlier this afternoon: I didn’t know Wren got dressed up.

But apparently, she does.

And worse, she looks good.

Her face is all soft curves and sharp contrasts. A heart-shaped face framed by long copper waves, an upturned nose, pouty mouth, and those wide, expressive eyes.

She does the same little shake Calla did, brushing off rain, and then she looks right at me.

Her mouth parts slightly, and she bites her lower lip.