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From the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte’s frown. I’m sure she’s wondering why I look like I could skin a cat, but I don’t address her dubious expression because I’m too busy trying to burn holes through the side of Jace’s face with my eyes.
Of all the ways I thought about starting my night off, having to face Jace the moment I walked through the doors was not one of them.
“Okay, did I miss something?” Charlotte says from beside me, breaking our silence. “Because you look furious. Is he talking to another girl?” she asks, craning her neck as though she’s missing something.
“Nope. No girl,” I say between clenched teeth. “He’s just consorting with the enemy, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Her eyes brighten and she takes a closer look. “Is your brother’s friend here, the one you told me about? Which one is he?”
I’d already filled both Charlotte and Samantha in on my drama with Jace, but they have yet to meet him, so I point. “The really tall one with dark hair. He’s wearing black.”
Charlotte’s eyes round. “The hot one with the muscles?” When I merely nod, my jaw tight, she continues, “Holy, cheese on rice, you didn’t tell me he wasthatgood-looking.”
I shrug, annoyed with her fawning. “I mean, some girls might consider him attractive, but let’s not get carried away.”
“He’s one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen.”
I shoot her a glare, then motion to the corner of her mouth. “You have a bit of drool.”
She smacks me, then inhales, chest puffing. “Okay, I’m good. Sorry. I just wasn’t prepared for”—she waves a hand in his direction—“all that.But now that I’ve acclimated, why is he talking to Stanley?”
“Apparently, Jace thinks just because I had zero social life in high school, I should be a nun at college, too.” My mouth flattens into a grim line. “But if he thinks I’m going to let him ruin my good time by policing me, he’s got another think coming. Come on.” I grab her arm and yank her toward them, reminding myself why I’m here. I’m Brynn Nichols, and this is my chance at a fresh start, to be the girl I want to be.
Several heads lift as we approach. Stanley’s eyes meet mine and he smiles at the same time his gaze sweeps appreciatively over me from head to foot. If the glimmer in his eye means anything, he likes what he sees. While I bask in the attention, I note the widening of Jace’s eyes as he takes me in. And while I shouldn’t care what he thinks—only Stanley’s opinion matters, since he’s the one I’m trying to impress—I can’t help but feel a little stab of victory at his reaction. Anyone else might miss the way his nostrils flare slightly as he homes in on the swell of cleavage above my neckline, or the way his blue eyes heat like liquid sapphire as his gaze drifts down the length of my legs in the skintight jeans, all the way to the strappy sandals on my feet.
But I do.
I notice everything.
Whether I like it or not, I’m finely tuned to the emotional responses of Jace Taggart.
“Brynn.” Stanley steps in and wraps me in a hug, crushing my chest to his, and I’m immediately engulfed in the cloying scent of his cologne.
After he releases me, he steps back, holding my hands at arm’s length. “You look . . .” He shakes his head, his eyes flickering over me once more. “Amazing.”
I smile, feeling the heat of a blush rise to my cheeks as someone I’m almost positive is Jace scoffs to my left. “Thanks. You, too,” I say, meaning it. His thick blond hair is combed to the side, and he’s wearing a polo and jeans that I’m almost certain hug his ass to perfection. If only he’d turn around.
I motion to my right where Charlotte waits. “Um, everyone this is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Stanley.”
I watch as Stanley gives a little wave, then begins to introduce his friends at the same time a deep baritone rumbles through my chest from behind. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
I shiver. I don’t need to turn to see it’s Jace hovering over my shoulder. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Excuse us.” Jace’s hand clamps down on my arm as he flashes Stanley a smile and pulls me to the side, away from everyone else.
I yank my arm from his grip. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hiss.
“Me?I can ask the same thing of you.” He waves a hand toward me, his aqua eyes deepening to a sapphire color. “For starters, I’d like to know what the hell you’re wearing.”
“It’s a top and jeans, Jace, not a micro mini and thigh-high boots.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, which is a mistake. It’s meant to be a move of defiance—annoyance—but I’m not sure the message is properly conveyed when my boobs practically burst from the top, drawing Jace’s gaze like a bullseye.
Twin flames of blue heat flare to life in his eyes. “Nice,” he snarls. “Your tits are practically on display.”
My cheeks burn, but I won’t let him get to me. I have nothing to be ashamed of for wearing a sexy top, so I keep my arms crossed, though a quick glance south confirms I’m practically spilling out of it.
Swallowing, I force myself to remain as I am, refusing to validate him by readjusting myself or uncrossing my arms. “My boobs look amazing. And if you don’t like it, why don’t you stop staring at them?” I quirk a brow, enjoying the way his jaw clenches. The muscle in his cheek flickers with the movement as he shifts his gaze and meets my eyes while I try to find something of his to critique.
He’s wearing a black shirt that hugs a firm chest I’m all too familiar with from the countless times I’ve seen him shirtless around our house. The soft cloth strains at the biceps and cuts at his tapered waist, and it pisses me off how good he looks in a simple T-shirt and jeans. How effortless it seems.
