Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“TK, that whiskey, man…” I let out a chortle. “I can’t find my room. This place is a fucking maze.”
Trent laughs, and this time it’s more genuine. “It really is.” He props his arms on the stone edge. “Second floor. Third door on the right.”
I narrow my gaze at him like I’m just piecing together where he is. “Why—why are you in a hot tub with Phoebe?” I ask.
“That’s a fantastic question,” Phoebe snaps at him. “What are you doing here, Trent? And why are you naked?”
“Naked?” My brows cinch together, and I try to smother my fury. Confusion. I’m confused, I tell myself. Definitely shouldn’t look like I want to snap his fucking neck.
Trent glances between us. “This is a Jacuzzi. What—are you both prudes?” He laughs at that. I don’t say anything. My blood is on fire.
He stepped into a hot tub with her.
Naked.
Nude.
His dick out?
Does he have an erection?
I want to break his cock in half.
He’s cornering her. To make her feel small. To do something to her? Phoebe was alone. Even I know that’s not right. Not okay. Not in a million fucking years.
Trent’s gauging my reaction. Even though we’re “friends,” Phoebe is still my ex-wife. “She’s not like that,” I tell him. “She won’t even take her clothes off for a massage.”
Her cheeks are red. Flushed at the lie.
She’d go naked for a lot less. Hell, she’s been nearly naked, sometimes fully nude, during cons before. I think back to the job Phoebe never names. Where we simulated having sex. She had no clothes on at one point. It would’ve been better if our parents weren’t behind it. If it really felt like her choice.
Trent looks Phoebe over again like I gave him permission to appraise her. “I doubt that.”
“Fuck off,” Phoebe growls.
He smiles, and I can tell her resistance is a game to him. It turns him on. But he must also know this isn’t a good time. Maybe it was before I showed up, but now, now he’s standing up and letting the water drip off his body.
Phoebe was right. He’s naked.
His semihard dick hangs at her eye level, and I watch Phoebe crane her neck to stare at me. “Collect your friend, Rocky,” she says.
He’s not my friend.
“No need,” Trent says, hopping out of the hot tub. He grabs a towel and throws it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Phoebe,” he calls out. He passes me and gives me a sly wink like we’re in on a secret. The game.
He wants to fuck her.
Three seconds go by as he passes my body. Three seconds of opportunity to slam him against the wall, break his fucking nose, and bury his head in the snow.
I let those three seconds slip between my fingers.
I can’t. I can’t.
Being his friend is more important than defending her. Even thinking those words sends brittle air into my lungs. When he’s inside, I make my way to the hot tub, housing regret in my core with each step.
Phoebe shoots a glare at the shadow he left behind. “He’s vile,” she says softly. Too softly.
I sit on the stone ridge of the hot tub and shed my boots. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
Her jaw sets. “He wanted…” Her voice drifts off.
“I know what he wanted, Phebs.” I dip my bare feet into the bubbling water as her eyes shift to mine.
Fear. She’s scared. “He would have taken it, if you hadn’t shown up.”
My stomach roils. I want to tell her, He’s not going to get away with this. But we’re not fleecing Trent yet. Tonight isn’t about pulling the rope, and so he doesn’t get punished. He doesn’t get broken. He gets to walk away.
Nova would say we’re just surviving at this point.
“I should’ve filmed him, or at least gotten an audio recording,” she says, cringing like she failed to bubble in an answer on a Scantron sheet.
“He’s in his own private hot tub naked. People would say you could’ve gotten out. They’d say he was just being charming. What that was”—I point back to the chalet—“it wasn’t enough dirt to bury him, let alone make him cough. You know that, Phebs. It wouldn’t have been worth the risk to do it.”
She’s blinking a lot. “Yeah…yeah.”
“That’s not the plan either. He’s not your mark,” I remind her under my breath. “You shouldn’t be alone around him.”
She lets out a hotter breath. “Jake told me the same thing. It’s not like I invited him to the hot tub.”
“Where is Jake?” I ask.
“In bed,” she mutters. “We spent all night at the clinic. Even after he asked, there were still peanuts in his salad dressing. I had to inject him with his EpiPen.”
Trent must’ve known that. It’s why he took the opportunity to corner her tonight. I let out a long sigh and run a hand through my hair, the wind tousling it. My skin feels colder with my feet in the scalding-hot water. Phoebe dips her chin under the liquid, and she stares off.