Page 138 of The Bluffing Game

Never again. I was an idiot for coming here with her.

“I appreciate the massage, and I hope you have a good night, but⁠—”

“Just get out,” she shouts at me as I hurry to her front door.

I do wonder if she’s going through something. This seems like an extreme reaction to me not sleeping with her.

“You men are all the same.”

“I dare say, if I were like all men, I would have slept with you,” I mutter, but I can tell she’s not impressed by my comment, so I quickly make my escape and head to my car.

“Get your act together, Dalton.” I sigh as I head to my Mercedes and slide into the leather seat. “Make smarter decisions.”

I buckle my seat belt, look behind me, check the back seat, and make sure there’s no one there before pulling out of the parking lot. I debate between heading to the ocean or heading home, but I know the responsible thing is to head home. My life is not my own anymore. I need to settle down and figure my shit out. I start the car and drive away. My phone rings, and when I see that it’s my best friend, Roman, I immediately answer.

“What’s happening?” I ask into the air as my Bluetooth connects to the speakers.

“Just checking in.” He grunts like he just finished playing ball. “I was just at the gym and headed home.”

“Cool, cool. I’m actually on the way home as well.”

“From where?”

“What do you mean, from where? You’re not my dad, Roman.”

“Might as well be for all the shit I’ve gotten you out of.”

“Funny.”

“Where you at? I was going to head to Kettle King, but it sounds like you left already?”

“I’m on the way home …” I want to groan, but I don’t need Roman on my ass, calling me a fool.

“What the hell happened, Dalton?”

“You don’t wanna know.” I know that’s a lie.

Roman can be as nosy as an old lady in a retirement home. He wants to know all the gossip.

“Who do I have to shoot?”

“Not funny.”

“Not joking.” He pauses long enough to let me know he’s still got my back, no matter what I need him to do.

Roman has always been more like a brother to me. We’ve been friends since we were four, and I trust him with my life.

“I know. I’m headed home … from getting a massage.” I can’t stop the grunt from escaping. “Only she was hoping for more.”

“Shit, you didn’t finally accept a massage from slippery Helen?”

“It’s Ellen, and I did.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking she was a professional masseuse who could help take the knots out of my shoulders. I mean, that is her job.”

“But she’s always giving you eyes, man.”