Page 180 of Revenge Puck

She chews, and for a while, we sit in companionable silence.

“Seriously. I almost felt sorry for him,” she confesses. “Almost.”

Her expression sharpens, getting cloudy. “I asked him point-blank if Aaron started seeing you out of revenge.”

“What did he say?”

Blaire hesitates. “He said…hethinksthat might’ve been how it started.” She pushes rice around her plate with a chopstick. “Obviously, he has no idea what’s going through Aaron’s head. They are not on speaking terms these days.”

Oh.

My shoulders droop. “So, he thinks it’s true?”

“He’s suspicious. He has no proof.”

Right.

Blaire licks her fingers and goes on. “I also said, ‘You’re telling me you two have been barking at each other like two rabid dogs and you don’t know what his angle is?’” She stops talking and watches my face. “What are you thinking?”

My head shakes. “I have no idea what to think.”

“How many times has Aaron tried calling you?”

I shrug. “Not sure. Four?”

She hums. “At least he’s attempting to reach you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I say warily.

“He’s not hiding.”

“He could be trying to get ahead of it,” I murmur. “Control the narrative.”

“Counter point,” she says. “He’s freaking out.”

“At the thought of losing me, or the thought that I could go to the press and tell the media what…what…?”

Blaire snorts. “That man has survived playoffs, press conferences, and online hate. I promise you he’s not shaking in his skates over a hypothetical headline.”

“That’s not fair,” I pout. “This could be ascandal.”

“Only if you want them both to look bad.”

True.

My brother may be a cheating, no-good homewrecker, but he’s my brother and I wouldn’t want to publicly humiliate him.

“Say it,” Blaire coaxes. “Go ahead, call them both dickheads.”

I laugh despite myself as she reaches over and flips my phone face-up before I can stop her.

My heart jumps into my throat.

Six missed calls.

Three texts.

All from Aaron.