Tryst Six Venom Read Online Penelope Douglas

Categories Genre: GLBT, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Penelope Douglas Advertisement1

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Clay’s never going to stand out by choice. She was always going to wind up with Callum or someone of the like, because that’s what perfect looks like.

I know that. I’ve always known that. But God, it sucked to see her in someone else’s arms. I didn’t expect it to suck that much.

I’m pretty sure she didn’t invite it, but she will choose him. Ultimately. That soulless, arrogant prick who hires people to do all his thinking for him. He doesn’t know what she likes.

But then I falter. Does he?

Clay is really hot in bed, and my ego didn’t even take into account that she would ever be that good with anyone else. I thought it was just us together.

Not likely. Someone else will be holding her in a few months. She knows what she likes now, and when we’re off to college, she’ll find someone else to pass the time.

“Miss Jaeger?” Lavinia calls.

Shit. I dive over to the cabinet and grab the container of pins. “Got it!” I call, jogging out of the workroom and into the dressing room. I hand Lavinia the container I’d forgotten minutes ago. “Here you go.”

I hand it to her, and she takes a few out, sticking them to the magnet on her wrist. Amy stands on the riser, her debutante dress a strapless A-line with a simple belt around the waist tied with a bow. She pulls on her long white gloves as Lavinia walks over to grab her matching shoes.

Amy meets my eyes in the mirror, her black eye from the fight the other night just about gone. “You can tell that bitch I always have the last word,” she says.

I pick up a couple of discarded tiaras and the flowers Amy probably ordered Lavinia to cut off the dress. “Too bad for you Aracely isn’t interested in talk,” I tell her, knowing the only way Amy can win anything is because of her daddy. And I back away. “You should also be wearing champagne. You look like death.”

Her red hair looks horrible against the dress, and I know there’s rules about the colors they’re allowed to wear, but progress, people. Come on.

Heading back to the workroom, my phone buzzes with a notification.

I lift it up, seeing a missed text from Clay. That’s two in the past hour. At least she waited until I was out of rehearsal before she started blowing up my phone to do damage control about Callum.

I turn off the screen and go to set it down, but it buzzes again.

I can’t stop myself. I glance over. I don’t want him, the text reads.

Yeah, but you’ll choose him. I toss the phone down. I’m not mad. I just don’t want to act like it’s okay, because it’s not. While she’s mine, she’s mine, and no one else’s and that’s it.

The phone buzzes again, and every muscle tightens. I have work to do, Clay.

But then it vibrates again, and I can’t resist.

You don’t care, right? She challenges me. We’re both leaving? This is just fun, right?

My eyes burn. Yeah, it’s just fun, and...

I want you to care, she types. I want you to come and get me and take me anywhere or just come inside my house.

I stare at the words, my longing for her twisting unbearably in my stomach.

I love that my bed smells like you, she writes. I love it when I smell like you.

I smile softly, my anger fading.

Do you ever think about doing what Alli did? she asks. We want out until we remember why we want to live. If only she had hung on. If only she’d felt this.

I grip the phone. But when I don’t respond to her texts, she sends another.

Hey, quick—what can jellybeans do that we can’t?

I narrow my eyes.

Come in different colors! she replies. Hardy-har *tap-step-hand clap*

I snort, more at the fact that she’s trying so hard to get my attention than the actual joke.

Please.

I’m sorry, she texts. I just… I wish I was looking at you right now.

God, she’s killing me. Why is she doing this? It’s not forever, right? We can keep this up for fun, but she needs to know she’s not the only one moving on to a different life when this is over.

I’m not waiting for her.

Megan asked me to go to prom, I type. With that new girl, Chloe. As friends.

I wait, seeing the Read receipt, but seconds turn into a minute, and she’s not replying. She’s not even typing.

If none of us have dates, we’ll go together. I hesitate, my mouth dry as my fingers hover over the screen. I’m going to say yes.

She sees the text but still nothing. That’s good, I guess. This is the reality. If I’m not going with her, I’ll go with someone.

I wait another few moments, and I text again. We’re meeting up this weekend to dress shop.


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