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“And you know how you’re always playing games to protect yourself from getting hurt?”
I cool my expression. “I’m sure you’ve now lost me.”
“Keep up. Love is vulnerable. Losing is vulnerable. You refuse both. I prove that you’re in love with me the second you forfeit.” He kisses my forehead. “Forfeit, princess.”
I bark a laugh. “And ruin my streak? For, what, you?”
His lips trail beneath my ear. “That is the idea.”
“I politely decline the suggestion, and I would like to take a shower, so if you could get off me, I would appreciate it.”
“If you insist,” he whispers, “but just remember…” He lifts his head, meeting my eyes as he loosens his grip on my wrists. “…this game doesn’t end until you give up.”
“Or—” I push myself up on my elbows. “—until you do. You’ll have to come to your senses at some point and realize how much of a scam I am.”
“I’m not a quitter. Loving you is such sweet torture that I would forever blindly succumb to being your victim.” He rises, offering me a hand. “That I am neither blind nor particularly victimized should say something, but you might be too busy counting your cards to hear it.”
I clasp his hand. “Mind spelling it out for me, then?”
As he helps me up, his head tilts, contemplative. His gaze roams the room—the couch, the door, Bugsy’s cage, my glass snakes that seem to have remained on the dresser. At last, he smiles and says, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I would mind.” Taking his hand away, his slips his fingers into his jean pockets. “Now, if you don’t mind, my bathroom hasn’t smelled like you for weeks, and it’s starting to get to me.” Turning on his heel, he heads toward the door. “I’ll leave you to remedy what is, truly, a distressing situation.” He glances over his shoulder, much too suave for my feeble sensibilities. “Do try not to realize you’re in love with me while I’m gone.” A predatory spark lights his half-lidded gaze. “When it happens, I want to watch.”
A swallow sticks in my throat. “Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me, just so you know.”
“I know. If it did, I’d beg you to go home tonight.”
“I was planning on it.”
“And I absolutely wouldn’t suggest that you staying in my room so my bed smells like lemon cake again would be a kindness to me.”
“Yeah, you totally wouldn’t,” I mutter, sarcastic.
“Beyond reverse psychology, I also wouldn’t threaten to sabotage your vehicle. Or anything extreme like that.”
My arms cross, and this absolutely shouldn’t be enticing me as much as it is. “Were my car to wind up compromised, I’d hot-wire yours and go on my merry way.”
“Briar.”
A shiver runs all the way down my back. “What?”
“I’ll sleep in a guest room. We have an early meeting in the morning, to prepare for the ball tomorrow night. After we get our information from that and hopefully close on the Maxim Project, you say you’re walking away. Please, leave something to haunt me a little while after you’re gone.”
With that, he slips out of the room.
Chapter 33
~~~~~~~~~~~~
First off, there can’t be a third-act break because no one’s together. (Calm down.)
Second off, there can be plenty of third-act betrayal.
Dun dun dun.
Rowan
Unknown: Hey, Boss. This is Chip and Lace. Briar’s going through it right now because she’s in love with you. As her closest friends, we’ve been monitoring your behaviors, and – congratulations – we like you.
Unknown: Scientific studies suggest that just knowing someone is in love with you can make you fall in love with them. Basically, if you weren’t in love with Briar before, now you are. (Congratulations x2.) And, also, if you aren’t planning to tell her anytime soon, reread this message.
