I have a feeling I’m not asking him because I’m afraid of the answer. Because even though I’ve made strides in finding myself again, I can be honest when I say if history dictates itself, I know I’ll be the one left hurt. Again.

I don’t respond to Carly. I just turn and walk away.

But her words are on replay in my head all night.

Over.

And over.

When the game winds down and everyone starts heading out, I keep my distance from Jase. I clean up the kitchen instead of lingering by his side as he says goodbye to all his guests, ignoring the way he keeps glancing at me like he can sense something’s wrong.

“Hendrix?” His voice is softer now as he steps up behind me.

I keep scrubbing the counter, pretending I don’t feel him standing there. “You should get some sleep. It’s late.”

“You okay?”

I nod. Lie. “I’m fine.”

Jase watches me for a long moment, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. But he doesn’t push.

Not yet.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Gizmo

Something’s off.

I feel it the moment Hendrix walks inside from the backyard, her posture stiff, her smile forced. She doesn’t join in the teasing or lean against the counter like she usually does as everyone slowly leaves the house to head home. Instead, she busies herself with cleaning.

With avoiding me.

I let it slide while the guys are here, but when the last of them filters out and the house falls quiet, I find her still wiping down the already-clean kitchen island.

“I’m not buying you’re fine. Fine is the kiss of death for a man. So what is wrong?”

She doesn’t turn around. “Nothing.”

Bullshit.

I push off the doorframe and step behind her, close enough that I see the tightness in her shoulders. “Try again.”

She exhales sharply and mutters, “Rocket’s date doesn’t have a brain in her head.”

“Which is probably why he’s with her. What does she have to do with you being upset?”

Hendrix slaps the sponge onto the counter and finally turns, arms folded. “She said you have a habit of hooking up with the help and moving on when you get bored.”

I stare at her. Then laugh. “That’s what has you in a mood?”

She scowls. “It’s not funny.”

“Which part? The you being the help part? Because that’s pretty fucking hilarious if you ask me.” But by the set of Hendrix’s jaw, clearly it isn’t funny to her. Fucking Carly. I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Hendrix, Carly has been around for, what? A month? How the hell would she know what I do or don’t do?”