Ensnared (Brutes of Bristlebrook, #1)(75)

Standing, I brush down my dress, and my eye catches the board.

His gaze touches me everywhere.

The pieces come into sharp focus, and I shake my head. “You’ve won, then.”

When I look at him, finally, his eyes are humiliatingly compassionate. “You played exceedingly well. You have a mind for it.”

I bite the inside of my lip. Hard. The tears well anyway.

Moving to the game, I knock over my king.

“But in the end, I always lose.”





Chapter 23


Eden


SURVIVAL TIP #3

Fight for yourself.

No-one else will.

I ready the dining table with a dull ache. In my muscles. In my gut. I don’t know why it feels so wrong, really, like the planets are somehow out of alignment. I don’t know why it hurts so much to lose something that never existed in the first place.

Maybe I’m just embarrassed.

Does your heart usually hurt this much when you’re embarrassed?

Lucky brings in the rabbit and wild mushroom soup he made, and he’s been darting looks at me ever since I made my way down from my room—where I fled in embarrassment after the abysmal ending to the games played between me and Jasper.

To me and Jasper.

“Eden, are you okay?” Lucky asks, an anxious frown creasing his forehead. “What happened with . . . him?”

Tanned arms wrap around my waist from behind, and my breath catches in surprise.

“Jasper didn’t scare you off, did he?” Beau asks. Lips press to my temple, and he takes a deep inhale, breathing me in. “I didn’t expect to see you down here tonight.”

My insides sting hotly. Maybe Jasper did whip me, after all—and he didn’t even need the flogger.

“No. It’s— I’m fine.” I try to pull out of his arms, uncomfortable in my own skin right in this moment, let alone against someone else’s.

Beau only lets me pull back slightly, face dimming. He hesitates. “Eden, are we okay? The other day . . . we left things in a weird place.”

“You mean before Dom nearly murdered me?” I attempt to joke, but he stays unusually serious, waiting.

Damn it. I don’t want to talk about this now. I don’t want to talk about him, or Jasper, or any of it.

“Should I fetch the potato?” I touch my hair, but there’s nothing to fix; it’s tied securely in its proper bun again. “You made a side, didn’t you, Lucky?”

Lucky and Beau both fall quiet, looking at me.

I swallow, then nod. “I’ll just go get that.”

Beau pulls me back in, my back to his chest, his arms an unyielding vice. “Talk to me, darlin’. Did things not go well?”

I force a light laugh, and hate the way it sounds.

“Don’t go charging after him with a knife or anything. I promise nothing happened.” My throat is made of splinters. “Jasper was a perfect gentleman.”

“That’s when he hurts the most.” Across from me, Lucky’s face darkens, and the look is unnatural on him. The comedy mask turns to tragedy. Spring to dead, decaying autumn. “What did he say to you?”

“We just realized we aren’t a good fit, that’s all,” I insist. I’m stretching the truth of “we” a bit far, but I think Jasper will forgive me for it.

He was very gracious, even while telling me I’m not enough for him.

Beau’s hands run up my hips, and I try to let myself sink into his touch.

At my words, Lucky freezes. “You aren’t a good fit for him? Or he isn’t a good fit for you?” A strange look crosses his features. “Did he say . . . why?”

“Does it matter?” Beau says. “There are a lot of us. It’s no surprise that it’s not going to work out for everyone. As long as they’re happy, then there’s no problem.”

Happy.

Right.

God, I need a distraction. Isn’t it enough to have my past, my wants, and my soul flayed open, examined, and discarded? I have to rot away in front of everyone else too?

“I’m happy to see the two of you,” I say rather than lying outright.

I draw Beau’s arms around me more firmly, sure—fairly sure—that Beau, at least, has no interest in rejecting me. My hips nestle into his stirring interest, and Beau laughs low in my ear. The sound sluices over my stinging insides, drawing out the hurt like his very presence is enough to heal. I shiver as his hot breath tickles the sensitive skin below my ear.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Beau purrs, then he snags my earlobe in his teeth and a furious roll of pleasure tumbles through me.

I squirm against him, and my gaze tangles with Lucky’s. The frosty disbelief lingers, but curious heat begins to melt it. His sky-blue eyes flick to the man behind me, a questioning light to them. Beau’s nod has his stubble catching the strands of my hair, sending quivers down my spine, and Lucky edges round the table. Taking Beau’s lead, he takes my chin and tilts it up farther, helping his friend get better access.

Beau releases my ear, and his lips move to my neck, like a whisper over my skin, and my eyelids droop. It’s okay, isn’t it?

To bury my pain in someone else? It’s okay if I want to use them as a cure for my loneliness and hurt pride? After all, they’re using me too, right?