Page 55 of Carnal Wagers

“Can’t,” I said, shaking out my curls. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

She leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms, watching me.

The street drag race started in a little over two hours, and I had to catch Cillian the moment he arrived. I couldn’t give him the chance to overlook me, or I’d be right back where I started, chasing my own goddamn tail.

I smacked my lip gloss in place, then shook out the nerves cramping my hands.

“How do I look?”

“Babe, you look hot. If he can’t see that, he’s crazier than he looks. And that’s saying something.”

“It would make this whole thing a lot easier if he stopped resisting at every turn.”

“What about getting to know him, instead of just trying to sex him up? Honey and bees instead of vinegar kind of thing.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have him eating out of my palm in no time.” I gave her one of my signature lopsided smirks to hide my unease.

How people saw me was all about what I showed them. So I hid my anxiety behind smiles, perfect makeup, exquisite outfits, and panache. No one knew my weaknesses that way. No one thought of me as less than.

Clothing was just as important as pretty words and a pretty face. I’d chosen my outfit for peak interest without being too sexual. Tight jeans with killer mid-rise boots that didn’t automatically scream “open for business,” but the bustier top drew the eye to my natural assets.

“That’s my girl. You go out there and bring him to his knees.”

Her confidence made my own soar. I could do this. I knew it, but like always, my mind played tricks on me. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if nothing went according to plan? What if I was relegated to the background? It was a constant uphill battle, but I’d like to think it helped shape me into the strong woman I was today, because I refused to let myself become my worst fears. I’d lived through them before. I wouldn’t again, and that depended solely on me.

“Erel,” I called out in French. “We’ve got to get going.”

“I’m coming,” he yelled from the floor above us.

“Oh, look at you. A few words, and you’ve already irritated him,” Maeve mocked, though she didn’t understand French.

I shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

“You do you, and make sure to bring him back stressed out.” She gave me a saucy wink. “He’s good beneath the sheets, but when he’s got some crankiness to work out, damn, I eat that shit up. And you somehow manage to wind him up better than anyone else.”

I hip-checked her. “You little slut.”

“Takes one to know one.” She took the plate from the table. “If you won’t eat this, don’t mind if I do.”

I stuck my tongue out at her as she bit into the toast. A string of chocolate spread dripped down her chin as she moaned.

“Show-off.”

She smirked, eyes twinkling. “Nah, just good at making you jealous.”

That she did. When Erel finally ended his virtual meeting with my brother, he and Maeve were all over each other. They whispered sweet nothings into each other’s ears, shared fierce kisses, and groped each other in ways I wished I’d never seen. But what hit the most was the way Erel’s face softened and lit up at the same time whenever he looked at her. I wanted that someday. I wanted someone who thought a moment of tenderness with me was worth leaving late for.

“Have fun storming the race,” Maeve said, waving us off.

“Do you love her?” I finally asked, after the last twenty minutes of prying updates, about home and Adrien, out of Erel as the car rumbled down the interstate.

His eyes jumped between the darkening road and me.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“It’s a simple question. Yes or no.”

“You know I do.”