Fuck, here we go, Play.

“Sounds like a plan.” The look of elation on her face is ridiculous. I hate to see what her panties look like. Shit, from my experience with desperate women, she’s probably not wearing any. “Meet me outside in ten minutes, yeah?”

I hear the quick inhale of breath to my right from Quin and when I flick my eyes her way the glare I deserve is slicing into me.

“Sure. Ten. Yes,” Delta Sig says as she walks back to her seat but my focus is already on Quin.

I can see Hunter over her shoulder, and I nod to him, hoping she realizes there is someone else watching our exchange. But I see the hurt flicker through her eyes, recognize the shock evident after what I just said, and know she’s not paying attention to who else is in the room because that fire of hers is aimed directly at me.

I choke over the words I need to say but know I need to spit them out because I already see Hunt checking out Delta Sig as she walks away, confirming my hunch that he just wants to stir shit up for me right now.

I look at Quinlan, she’s so goddamn beautiful, especially now when all I see is anger and all I want to do is leave with her, take her to her place, lay her down, and show her the shit I feel that’s on continual spin cycle in my gut. Those feelings that are churning within me way too quick and way too fast. There are emotions stirring that I don’t want, can’t have. Hell yes, I pursued her, loved the fucking challenge she presented, and I loved the idea of Vinny boy getting another ring around his damn pink heart, but never expected this notion that just slammed into me like a Mack truck.

That this is more than just a bet. That this is more than just about sex.

I expected a fun fling but never expected to consider losing a stupid goddamn bet because one, no way in hell am I letting Vince touch her and two, no way am I letting Hunter either.

How did this get so fucking complicated? How did the pressure of Hunter being here and the notion I’m going to hurt her make all of this fester up and slap me in the face?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Way too much all at once.

I panic momentarily, force myself to see that wanting something more than sex doesn’t necessarily mean love. It just means that I care for her and know I’m about to hurt her and hate myself for that look I know I’m going to put in her eyes. But I also know the kind of hurt I’ll inflict will be ten times easier than what I fear Hunter would do just to get back at me.

“Ten minutes?” Quin’s voice breaks through the riot in my head, pulling me back into the moment.

“Yeah.” I break eye contact and start to walk toward the table where my keys and phone sit on the table, anything to not see her lips shock apart and eyes widen. Anything to act normal and get the judge to lose interest and walk away. “Can you make sure that you get this all set up for the next class for me?”

“Excuse me?” Disbelief laces her voice.

“The PA. Next class. Got it?” The less I say the better.

“Did I miss something here?” She’s closer to me now, and I turn to face her. I can be a callous asshole without a second thought like the best of them but hell if I’m not going to hate myself later for this.

“Nope. Not a thing. Just gotta wrap things up here so I can meet up with a friend.”

“A friend? Hmpf. You must have a lot of friends—kind of like flavors of the month.” The contempt is dripping from her voice, and I see her clasp her hands to prevent them from trembling with emotion.

Shit, I know she said she was a woman okay with casual sex, but I also know that casual sex takes off the next morning once they feel it’s polite to leave. I stayed the whole fucking day until night fell. She’s got to know—like I just realized—that there is more than just sex between us. She has to. I just hope she remembers that right now as I utter my next words.

“That’s about right. It’s all good though, at least I have thirty-one to choose from at any different time. They come and go so quick, right? Makes them easy to sample and move on,” I tell her, delivering the final blow in what I hope will get her the hell out of this room and away from Hunter.

My phone alerts a text but I don’t even flinch because she stares at me a beat without speaking, jaw clenched, eyes blinking as she processes what I just told her.

“Well, this flavor just expired,” she says, starting to walk toward me and for a moment I’m unsure what her intentions are but she veers to the right of me and toward the stairs there. I track her movement as she walks up the steps with determination, holding the apology back on my lips, and if the notion hadn’t slapped me in the face moments ago that I care for her, it definitely would have hit home right now.

I realize that Quinlan never turned around to see my brother behind her. She doesn’t have a clue why I just did what I did.

She walks right past the judge at the same time he stands, nodding a polite greeting to her but eyes still focused on me. What I’d give to tear off after her right now, clear the hurt I just put from her eyes, but at what cost since the two people who can ruin my fate are sitting here in the same fucking room? I wince at the sound of the doors slamming shut with force at the top of the theater and pull in a deep breath as I prepare to face my brother and whatever shitstorm he’s hedging toward.

Today’s brutal enough, can’t I just deal with it my own way without him making it worse?

“Well, that was awkward,” he says in that mocking tone of his. “You had her already and what, she wasn’t good?”

My fist clenches and it takes everything I have to turn my back to him and walk toward the side of the auditorium and turn the PA system off. Normally talking like this with Hunter or Vince or one of the guys would be okay—our sex lives are an open book—but I don’t want to hear him talk about Quinlan or about how good she was or wasn’t. He doesn’t deserve to know.

Hell, I don’t even deserve to know. She’s way too good for me.

“What’s up?” I call out to him, trying to act nonchalant and ignore his comment when I’d rather shove him up against the wall and tell him just what I think of him and his bullshit. I step into the small alcove, and I swear to God it still smells of the sex we had earlier. The pang of guilt stabs again but it’ll never be deep enough to inflict the pain I deserve after what I just said to her. I flip the switch and turn around as fast as I can. I don’t want him ruining what happened in here between Quin and me either.

When I emerge back into the theater, he looks at me expectantly. “So what gives? Blondie’s bad in bed so you moved on to sexy sorority girl? Because she’s definitely more my type.”

My patience is gone and my temper boils but he just said the words I needed to hear. I’ve caught his attention with Delta Sig.

“Yeah, something like that,” I defer, running a hand through my hair in exasperation. “I need to get going. She’s waiting. Do you need something?” And when I glance up to the seats now, I find that the judge has slipped out and it’s just him and me. A sigh of relief flickers through me despite the tightrope I’m walking with him.

“Oh, you’re going out with her right now?” he says, lifting his chin up the stairs, motioning his hands across his chest like the letters Delta Sig girl wears on display.

“Mm-hm.” I stuff my keys in my pocket as my phone alerts me of another text.

“I’m tagging along with you, man. Want to see how bad you blow it with this chick so I can swoop in and save the day.”

“Dream on, dude. Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” He’s pushing buttons, and I’m in no fucking mood for his shit right now, especially today. Can’t he get that he’s not the only one who suffers from the memories this day evokes? I know I’m fooling myself thinking he does. “How’s your counseling appointments going? Huh, Hunter?” I meet his eyes, the need to see if he lies to me front and center.

“Next week is my first one.” His eyes dart to the left and then back to mine.

“You think I’m going to buy that bullshit lie?” I can hear the incredulity rising in my voice, the stress of the last fifteen minutes taking its toll. “You think I’m here paying a penance for something I didn’t fucking do to save your goddamn ass and you get to skip out on your end of the bargain?” I step toward him, fists clenched, teeth gritted, patience gone. “You fucked up last time, lost your chance at a whole helluva lot…. You gonna risk more now?”

“C’mon brother, you know I’m good for it.”

I just look at him as truths I push aside every day about my brother come crashing down around me. I continue to hold out hope but I don’t have to ignore the anger. “Don’t you dare c’mon brother me! I don’t care what you’re fucking good for because right now it seems like you’re not good for a fucking thing!” I yell, my finger jabbing him in the chest. “I took the fucking fall for you. Jeopardized my freedom, my career, my band for you, and you stand here like it’s no big fucking deal.”

“You and your precious career!” he sneers.

“You bet your ass my career, you prick. Who do you think funds your lifestyle? Your habit? Did you forget where your monthly payoff from the band comes from? I pay you from my cut you asshole merely because the guilt eats at me that you forced me to make a decision, keep you on and ruin the band’s collective career or force you out to get help and save myself….”

“You’re real good at saving yourself.” He fists his hands. “But you sure as shit suck when it comes to saving others now, don’t you.”

His words knock me back a staggering mental step. I stare at him eyes wide, disbelieving that he actually just went there. I grit my teeth and take a less than calming breath. “Not everybody wants to be saved, Hunt.” We stand in a silent standoff, our words doing much more damage than our fists ever could. “You included, right? You gonna save yourself? Get help for your habit? You can blame me all you want … but your jealousy is on you—”