Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
“Something I did?” Oliver asked, approaching him without fear. Unafraid of towering apex predators since he’s also one.
“Hailey” was all Jake said.
“Yeah.” Oliver lifted his foot, just to pry off his soaked leather loafer. Right one, then the left. He chucked the expensive shoes aside. “One of us is good. One of us is bad. And after tonight, you’re scared that I’m bad for her.”
“You don’t have to be—”
“You don’t want to change me.” Oliver stepped closer in challenge.
Jake tensed, his arms uncrossing and hands clenching.
Nova rose slowly off the armrest.
I had to follow suit, standing, but my brows furrowed the longer I observed them. How their gazes danced over each other. How Jake sheltered too many breaths.
“Because deep down,” Oliver said, “you know I’m exactly what she needs. And it drives you mad.”
“Is that your specialty then?” Jake rotated as Oliver circled him, their eyes fastened together. “Driving people insane?”
“You tell me.” Oliver inched closer and closer, testing how near he could get. His chest pressed against Jake’s. “How far down the rabbit hole have I led you, Koning?”
Two pulsing beats passed.
And then Jake fisted Oliver’s wet shirt and shoved him hard against the wall.
Nova sprung forward, and I caught his bicep, yanking him back. He tore out of the hold too easily. He just had to be the fucking Hulk when it came to protecting his brother. Reaching out again, I restrained him from behind.
Jake hadn’t thrown a punch yet. He white-knuckled Oliver’s shirt, and Oliver had his head braced against the wall, staring straight into Jake with challenge. Egging him on. Their chests were rising and falling too hard.
Oliver had a glimmer of a smile in his eyes. “You going to kiss me or hit me, Koning?”
At this, Jake released his clutch and stepped back.
“Neither,” Oliver tsked, giving him a once-over. “Well then, I have somewhere to be.” He moved around Jake. “I plan to go remind Hailey what she means to me.”
Nova had already stopped fighting against me. We both stood still as Oliver left a very tense Jake in his wake.
Then Jake spun around to ask, “He’s straight?”
“He’s straight.” Nova nodded but then looked to me to see if I knew any differently.
Oliver is a flirt, but it doesn’t mean he’s attracted to everyone. He’s kissed guys before. Said it did nothing for him. I’ve kissed guys. Definitely did do something for me, but that is a past life. In this life now, my sole attraction is Phoebe.
“Straight,” I confirmed.
Jake let out a deep noise of vexation. “And he knows I’m bi. So he’s messing with me.”
Nova frowned at the hallway where Oliver disappeared. “I’ve never seen him do this with a guy.” Me either.
Jake rubbed the side of his strained neck. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Oliver was right. He was absolutely driving Jake mad, and by the way they were looking at each other, I think Jake liked it.
I think Oliver liked it, too.
Jake left, and Nova scraped a hand over his buzz cut. “What the hell are they doing?”
“Being fucking messy.” I thought about my sister being pregnant. “Be grateful it’s not for us to figure out.”
So while we’re hunting for quail—as Jake stares at Oliver in the walking line—I know now it’s not just fascination drawing him in. It’s deeper attraction.
Add in the fact that my sister is allergic to commitment as much as Oliver and Jake are, and this is going to be a rude awakening when the guys learn a baby is on the way.
I have literally zero desire to be the one to unleash this news. But there’ll be a point where I might need Oliver to know. Just to better protect her on the job. We’re constantly around drugs and alcohol, and he should know Hailey can’t consume either to save face or to gain social influence or to appease Trent.
Oliver would want to know.
But so would Jake.
Way too complicated.
The English setter startles birds off a thorny shrub. I raise my gun as several quails flush into the air.
Nova shoots one. I manage to hit another. After the birds fall, Varrick claps for me. It reads as genuine applause.
I believe he wants me to like him.
Why wouldn’t he?
I tip my head in appreciation. Showing he’s growing on me. He knows I’ve never trusted Everett, Elizabeth, or Addison. I’ve said as much.
Our gazes hold for too long.
He smiles a little more. He likes me. Maybe he does. Maybe he’s enjoying this. Maybe he likes toying with us. Maybe he likes that I can see through his bullshit like he can see through mine.
Because how could he ever think I’d trust him after he admitted to killing my birth family? I’m good, but tricking a grifter isn’t the same as duping a run-of-the-mill narcissist. We’re both using the same playbook.