Breaking Even(21)

Poor Wren. He’s in for a night of hell.

“Your date’s here,” I grumble while moving over and slapping Wren on the arm, my eyes still on the girl I’d like to throw in the pool.

That’s not good enough. I need something epic after what she did to me earlier.

He turns around and looks at her, smiling as he says, “She looks like the only one here that came to relax.”

I frown as I try to understand his meaning. Is he complimenting her or putting her down?

“What do you—”

“Wren,” Ash interrupts, smiling as she guides Brin over. “This is the girl I’ve been telling you about.”

Brin looks down, acting as though she’s a little shy or awkward. That’s sure as hell not the girl I know.

“Hey,” she says bashfully when she finally peers back up.

“Hey,” Wren says back, giving her a smile he barely uses.

I still don’t know what’s going on with him, but I can tell he’s not really at this party. Well, physically he is, but his mind is a million miles away. He’s going to hurt her feelings if he doesn’t act right.

“Hey,” I mock, rolling my eyes before glaring at her.

Her smile morphs into a real one and grows as she looks at me, and then she bites back the taunting grin. “You smell... odd,” she says coyly, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“Wonder why?” I growl, and her laughter breaks free.

I don’t care how cute her damn laugh is, she’s still going to have one hell of a reckoning the second I find the perfect revenge.

“You two are still warring, I see,” Tria says, chuckling as she walks up.

Kode comes to rest a possessive hand on her hip, staking his claim as though I’m interested.

“She broke into my house and baby-oiled my floor, and then bombed me with air freshener,” I gripe, and everyone starts laughing, including Wren.

Her smile is aimed at me as she says, “We’re even. Truce for the night?”

Even? Ha! “We’re not even close to even, but yes—truce for the night. We need some boundaries.”

She nods, agreeing with me. I’ll regret that if I see something I could get back at her with. But for now, I’ll give her a damn temporary truce.

“Hey,” Ingrid says, sidling up beside me as she tries to interfere with our conversation.

Apparently hey is all anyone else wants to say tonight. At least this girl is completely normal, unlike some of the others Ash has introduced me to.

Brin’s eyes scan the long legs of the blonde attached to my arm, and she appraises the skin-tight dress that is glued to the body of the bomb-shell. I almost release a smug smile when she tugs at the ends of her shorts, obviously feeling uncomfortable. At least her shorts fit for a change.

That ass better not looks as good as it did the other night.

“Sorry,” Brin says, looking at Wren and away from me. “Ash said a barbeque, and, well, I didn’t realize it was a dress-to-kill barbeque.”

Everyone snickers as Wren moves closer, shrugging. “You look good to me. We can take a walk later, and you can tell me all about your future plans to torment Rye.”

I glare at the traitor who only sniggers at my expense. Brin forces a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching her eyes. Now I feel like an ass because I realize she feels really uncomfortable.

In all actuality, shorts and a tank top do make sense for a barbeque.

“Care to help me find a drink?” Ingrid asks, tugging at my arm.

“They’re at the bar,” I say, motioning toward Tag’s big ass setup he has on his pool patio.

I should hang out at my beach home more often, but I love my suburb house during the off season. Even though it never really gets cold here, the wind at night this time of year is pretty chilly. All of these girls will be regretting their clothing soon.

Ingrid frowns as Wren offers Brin his arm. What is he? Eighty?

“Need a drink?” he asks her.

“A beer would be nice.”

She grins up at him, fooling him with that sweet smile that masks the devil’s wicked grin underneath. She could fool the CIA, but she can’t fool me.

“You know her?” Ingrid asks as she returns with a glass of some fruity concoction.

“Yeah,” I mutter vaguely, not enjoying the way Wren is resting his arm around her waist. He doesn’t know her well enough for that. He might pull back a nub if he accidentally crosses some arbitrary line the way I did.

I’m not sure he can handle her.

“You going to stare at the girl wearing shorts all night?” Ingrid asks, sounding a little annoyed.

I suppose I’d be offended if she was staring at a guy while on a date with me, but she’s taking this out of context.