Page 9 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“My resume and my dating profile. Speaking of…how’s your booooooyfriend?” she teases in a singsong voice.

Heat rises in my cheeks. Eden is the one person in my life who knows about Beau. Since she lives in Alberta, far away from Toronto and everyone who knows my brother, she’s the only person who was safe to confide in.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say quickly. “He’s my…male outlet.”

“Semantics. How’s your male outlet?”

I shrug. “The same.”

The same answer I always give. The only answer I have.

“Same meaning, he still hasn’t told Luke about you?” Eden presses. “Still hasn’t taken you on a real date? Still hasn’t⁠—”

“Eden,” I interrupt, trying not to let the twist in my chest come through as anger at her in my tone. It’s not her I’m angry at. “I know. I know.”

“Okay.” She’s silent for a minute. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just⁠—”

I stop myself from saying that the wedding sucked. It was so beautiful, watching Cat and Nate celebrate their love in front of all their friends. Watching Pippa and Ryan dance wildly on the dance floor, seeing James rub Maura’s shoulders when she got tired. It’s exhausting, seeing these big public love stories play out while mine stays locked in a coat closet.

Eden shoots me an encouraging smile. “We’re good, Brinley. We’ll always be good, and I’ll always want the best for you.”

We fall into a comfortable silence as I eat popcorn and Eden keeps unpacking. I find myself wondering if she didn’t move in at the best possible time. In just a few weeks, I head for Italy. It’s a trip I take every year with Beau, in secret, of course. It’s the one time a year we get to exist out in the open, half a world away from everyone we know. If Eden can’t find work, then I might finally have someone to cover the Copper Cup while I’m gone. Someone I trust, who knows about me and Beau, who won’t ask questions I don’t have answers to.

Because planning this trip is always a nightmare. We have to stagger flights and plant cover stories weeks in advance. It’s exhausting, but it’s what keeps me going through the other fifty-one weeks of the year. The one time Beau can actually be my boyfriend. I can’t lose it this year. Not when everything else in my life feels like it’s fraying at the edges.

It’ll be harder without visiting Eden on the Locke Ranch as my cover story.

“You know what?” Eden says after a moment. “I have a feeling I’m going to love Toronto.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“No reason. Just a feeling. Things are going to turn around for both of us, Brinley. I can feel it.”

This is exactly why having Eden here is dangerous. Secrets are easier to keep when there’s no one around to tell you that you deserve better.

3

BEAU

The rope whips around my head as loud rock music pounds in my headphones. My eyes sting a bit as sweat drips down into them, making me squint at my blurred reflection in the gym mirror. My quads burn with threatening, acid heat. I know I’m pushing harder than I should, and it’s making the critical little voice in my head shut the fuck up for a minute. So I keep fucking pushing.

Every time my sneakers touch the ground, I launch myself up again, as high as I can go. Little girls around the world have it right—jumping rope is no fucking joke. It’s elite level cardio, and the best way to burn out the last of your energy at the end of a workout.

The song on my headphones ends, leading into another one with an even faster tempo. I speed up my jumps to match it, the rope whirling around me. And for some reason, that little voice starts talking again.

You’re not going fast enough.

Not high enough.

Not good enough.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

My calf muscles bunch tightly. My chest heaves, dragging in oxygen slower than my pounding heart demands. I’m going to cramp up any second.

I force myself to keep going to the end of the song. My eyes squeeze shut, and I tunnel down deep. I count the seconds, one by one, until the last chord fades out and I finally drop the rope to the floor.