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“I’m not going to argue that,” she answered. She watched him over the rim of her glass, tension humming through her veins. His eyes latched onto hers, heating up under her stare. She looked away and tucked her side swept bangs behind her ear. “He wants to get a scholarship to Harvard, so let’s hope he keeps improving.”
“He can do it.”
Kiersten smiled at his utter conviction. Once again, something inside of her moved a little bit. She didn’t like it. “I know, but thank you.”
He lifted his glass again. “And we’re also toasting your freedom from an asshole who didn’t know what he had when he had it,” he said, his eyes hard. “If he hadn’t shown his true colors, you would be marrying that jerk right now. You deserve so much better.”
She bit down hard on her tongue. He was right, but it didn’t stop the pain and humiliation Pete had put her through. “I don’t want to talk about him. I want to…to forget. To not think about what would have been, or why I was stupid enough to believe in him in the first place.”
Because if she started thinking about what Pete had done to Chris and her…she would break.
“Fair enough.” He stepped closer, his toes touching hers. He smoothed her hair that she’d sloppily tucked behind her ear, watching her as he did so. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Yes, you did.” She shivered, swaying closer despite the warning bells going off in her head. And he didn’t move away from her. If anything, he moved closer. Thank God. “But you shouldn’t say that.”
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her chin, perilously close to her mouth. “Why not?”
Yeah, why not?
And that brought them to her agenda for the evening—sex. Time to start her arguments. State her case. They were both consenting adults. Easy. Straightforward. Commitment free.
“I like it when you do.” She chugged the rest of her drink. “But right now, we’re just friends. Friends don’t call each other pretty.”
He quirked a brow at her and took the glass away. She waited for him to question the right now part of her sentence, but instead he said, “You can call me pretty if you want. I don’t mind.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, pretty boy. Get me another drink, or I’ll have to slap you around a bit.”
He chuckled. “I might like that.”
She licked her lips. “I bet you would.”
He hissed in a breath through his teeth. “You’re feisty tonight, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”
He shot her a heated look, finished his own cup, and refilled them both with trembling hands. He seemed to steady himself by the time he turned back around to face her. The fire was gone from his eyes and he looked completely harmless. But she knew better.
“Here you go. You might want to slow down, though. You’ll be drunk if you don’t.” His lips tilted up into a small smile. “But if that’s what you want, then keep drinking. I won’t complain. I’ll even tuck you in when you pass out on the couch.”
“Hm.” She tipped back the glass. “Or you could join me?”
He stilled, the glass pressed to his lips. “What?”
“I’m kidding, of course.”
Was it just her, or did disappointment cross his features? “Of course you are. I knew that.”
“But then again…” She rolled a small sip around her tongue, watching him the whole time. After she swallowed, she slowly licked her lips. He watched her every movemen
t, his muscles tight. “Maybe I feel like being a little bit stupid tonight. Want to join me?”
“Depends.” His hand tightened on the wine glass. “What do you want to do?”
“I want…” She clung to her glass, trying to get the nerve to say what she wanted out loud. What if she’d read him wrong? What if he wasn’t interested in her at all? God, she was pathetic. She didn’t used to be so uncertain of herself. She could thank her asshat of an ex for that, too. She took another gulp of wine, wishing it would take effect quicker. “Never mind that. Are you seeing anyone right now?”
He shook his head. “No. Why?”
“No reason.” She toyed with a piece of her hair and took another sip. “Can I ask you something?”
