Shutout (Rules of the Game, #2)(80)



“This isn’t how a friendship is supposed to work,” I add. “This isn’t even a friendship.”

That’s not including the things she doesn’t know, like the BRCA test. No wonder I haven’t told her. She clearly wouldn’t care.

“Oh, so you’re perfect now, and I’m the bad guy?” Abby’s voice climbs until I’m sure everyone in the house can hear.

This feels like a lover’s quarrel, and it’s arguably even more frustrating than one.

I sink onto my bed and grab a pillow, squeezing it to channel my anger. “I know I’m not perfect, but at least I care about my friends.”

“Do you think you’re somehow better than me because of this little hookup situation you have going on? That’s never going to last, Sera. There’s a reason Tyler doesn’t want to be your boyfriend.”

It lands like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about right now.” The waver in my voice betrays my hurt feelings.

Abby rolls her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that. Don’t come crying to me when it fails.” She turns away and flounces out of my room, slamming the door behind her.

“Good!” I call.” Glad we’re on the same page!”

Trying to get the last word feels immature, and I immediately regret having bothered.

The front door bangs, followed by silence. My anger fades, leaving me alone with Abby’s words. And the longer I sit, the more I start to wonder if what she said about Tyler was right.





CHAPTER 29





WRONG TARGET





TYLER





Seraphina is in my room again, only this time, it isn’t a secret.

“I brought you some ice.” She pads over to the bed where I’m sitting in my boxer briefs and hands me a gel pack wrapped in a dishcloth. “I hope you didn’t hurt your hand when you hit him.”

“Thanks, Ser.” I arrange the ice pack on my knuckles with a wince, wrapping the cloth around my fist to hold it in place. While I’m well-versed in how to throw a punch properly, my lizard brain wasn’t concerned with that earlier. I was only thinking of inflicting maximum damage—not protecting my hands for hockey.

Climbing onto me, she tips up my chin, examining my face. I know from the bathroom mirror that there’s a small bruise blooming, but it’s minor compared to what I did to him.

“Oof. Does that hurt?” Soft fingertips trail along the mark, tracing it.

“Nah. You shoulda seen the other guy.” Even then, Rob got off easy. He deserves so much worse. What if they’d been somewhere else? What if they’d been alone? Just thinking about it makes me sick.

“I appreciate that you care, but you shouldn’t have done that because of me,” she adds. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble.”

“After that dirtbag did that? Couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried. Probably wasn’t the best way to tell your brother about us, though.”

“Tomorrow’s problem. I’m an adult, and Chase can get over it.”

Questions simmer inside of me, heating until they come to a boil and I can’t hold it in any longer. “What’s the deal with Rob, anyway? Can you give me a little backstory?”

She hesitates. “We hooked up a long time ago, but it was a one-time thing. I always thought he was my friend, but clearly I misread that and ignored a bunch of red flags.”

A long time ago? What does that even mean? Two years? Three? She’s only twenty now. I’m left with more questions than answers, but I also don’t want to pry into her past more than she’s comfortable with.

“This isn’t your fault, Ser.” Setting the ice pack aside, I cup her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I get the impression she’s come down here to make me feel better, but I’m not the one who deserves the concern.

Her mouth twitches. “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. Rob was just drunk.”

That she’s downplaying what he did makes me exponentially angrier with him because it is a big deal.

“Drunk or not, no asshole has the right to touch you without your permission. Especially not a guy who’s supposed to be your ‘friend.’” The words come out more harshly than I intend. “I’m sorry. I can’t stand the idea of someone hurting you.”

Seraphina shrugs off my comment, shifting closer to me on my lap. Her palms land on my shoulders as her lips lower to mine. My entire body fires up in response, and my dick perks up, making for a confusing combination of emotions when added to the primal anger coursing through my veins. As much as I love having her here, I’m fucking furious. I’m going to stay furious for a good couple of days, if not longer.

And if I ever see Rob again, he’s going to wish I hadn’t.

As if sensing my anger, she tears away from our kiss. Her breasts brush my chest, then my abs, as she slides to the floor and her knees hit the carpet.

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore, okay?” Her chocolate eyes look up at me, almost pleading. More paradoxical feelings arise. It’s a face that’s impossible to say no to. It’s also the person I have the strongest urge to protect, and that’s why I’m so pissed.

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