Chapter 50

FREYA

I found the washroom and took a few minutes to myself. I was unsettled by Aiden’s comments. They sounded too good to be true, which was a problem. I found it increasingly difficult to believe his words; my trust issues stemmed from a series of disastrous past relationships.

After a final look in the mirror, I left the washroom. The room’s opulence was immediately apparent—these people were clearly wealthy.

I accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server. It was the most expensive champagne I’d ever tasted.

“Do you know why we’re here today?” Footsteps stopped beside me. I looked up; it was Connor. He seemed to take my silence as encouragement to answer his own question.

“To conserve manatees.”

I managed a smile. The thought of Aiden caring about manatees was strangely funny. His presence was purely business; I assumed the same for Connor.

“Mr. Warren,” I said crisply.

“Connor,” he corrected.

“We should maintain professionalism. A first-name basis makes things difficult,” I said, using my most professional and detached tone. I deliberately avoided eye contact.

From my peripheral vision, I saw him looking at me.

“Aiden told you,” he realized, his voice low.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I replied. We both knew what he meant. But if I were to work with him, I wanted to avoid discussing personal matters. Otherwise, I would have given him a piece of my mind. I despised people who betrayed and cheated, and I’d encountered far too many.

“And now you think I’m a bad person,” Connor concluded.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I said, taking another sip of champagne. Keeping my thoughts to myself was difficult, and not necessarily good for anyone. Clearly, he didn’t take the hint to drop the subject, as he pressed further.

“You shouldn’t judge without hearing both sides of the story.”

I scoffed. “So, there’s another side to the story of how you slept with your friend’s girlfriend?”

See? That's what I meant. Not good.

“Best friend,” Connor muttered.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘friend.’ Aiden wasn’t just a friend; he was my best friend. And yes, there’s another side to the story.” I would have laughed if he hadn’t looked so serious.

“So, what does this other side say?” I asked.

“It says I didn’t sleep with his girlfriend on purpose.”

I blinked. That was the equivalent of “it’s not what it looks like” bullshit. This time, I did snort, my disbelief clear. If that offended him, he didn’t show it. He continued:

“It was a frat party. I was drunk. I’d just finished six months of rehab for an injury that prevented me from being drafted. What did you play?”

“Football,” he said, looking at me.

Even if what he said was true, which it seemed to be, it wasn’t a good reason to sleep with your best friend’s girlfriend.

“Well, that doesn’t excuse you—”

“I didn’t know they were together. Before I left, they were on the verge of breaking up, and during those six months, I was detached from everything. I didn’t know what happened in college. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Besides, Aiden and I weren’t… we didn’t do the whole crying and hugging thing.”

If I had to bet on any part of Connor’s story being true, this would be it. Aiden was closed off, guarded, and didn’t let people in. So, it wasn’t hard to imagine him not discussing his feelings, even with his best friend.

“And that night at the party, Penny told me she and Aiden weren’t together anymore,” he said, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“I know I shouldn’t have slept with her, considering she’d dated my best friend, but I was drunk. My judgment was clouded, and I made a mistake. I didn’t know Penny had lied to me until Aiden found us together.”

Was this true? Could it be? Why did it sound like it was?

“Why do I believe you? Maybe I’m just that gullible,” I mused aloud.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, dripping sarcasm.

“Have you tried explaining things to him?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “You think?”

“Well then try again. Talk to him,” I said. Obviously, if it were true, he needed to make Aiden listen, even if Aiden didn’t want to. Connor stared at me, considering my words. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

“Talk to… whom?” Cillian sauntered closer, hands in his pockets. He looked at me.

“Cillian,” I said, genuinely smiling. Despite our limited interaction, I liked him: cheery, casual, and charming.

“You look beautiful.” He kissed my cheek, grinning.

“Thank you.”

Cillian turned to Connor, his grin laced with barely concealed disdain.

“Warren. Still sleeping around with other people’s girlfriends?” He didn’t mince words. Connor chuckled and nodded.

“Always a pleasure, Knight,” Connor said. They stared at each other intently. Connor broke the gaze first, looking at me.

“Yeah,” I muttered, noticing Cillian’s slight frown from the corner of my eye.

The remaining text appears to be unrelated and possibly gibberish. It has been omitted.