I bite down the urge to ask if she likes Devon. and then remind myself that she’s here with me. Devon is irrelevant. Instead I state the obvious. “Devon loves gossip.”
“Oh.” But then she frowns, taking the tiniest step away from me. “So, you don’t want Devon to know we’re here together?”
Fuuuck.
That is not what I meant at all. And this is why I shouldn’t be allowed out in public.
Since I can’t very well whip out my phone and text Cassie for advice, I go for honesty.
“If I didn’t want Devon to know we’re here together, we wouldn’t be here together.”
There’s so much more I want to say. I want to tell her that I don’t care who sees us together. That Devon can go fuck himself. That Devon could jump on a table and announce to the entire crowd that we’re together and I’d be fine with that.
But Devon can be an attention hog, and I don’t want to share her attention tonight.
Before I can say any or all of that, she gives a little smile, which I hope means she knows what I’m thinking. Then she adds, “Maybe he’ll be on his best behavior.”
“Maybe I’ll be abducted by dragons.”
“That seems less likely.”
“Does it?”
She laughs and bumps her shoulder against mine. The tiny contact lands like a spark.
Maybe she didn’t read all of my subtext, but I think she got the gist of it.
It’s getting harder to pretend I’m unaffected by her. Harder still when she seems determined totouch me every chance she gets, even if half those touches are probably absentminded.
Probably.
A song changes. Something upbeat. A little cheesy.
Tavey perks up immediately. “Oh! I love this song.”
Of course she does.
“Good for you,” I say.
She turns to me with narrowed eyes. “Was that sarcasm?”
“Yes.”
“Rude.”
I take a sip of my drink. “You’ll survive.”
Instead of firing back, she just looks at me for a second. Then her mouth curves in a slow, mischievous smile.
That smile should come with a warning label.
“What?” I ask.
She sets her nearly empty glass on a passing tray and reaches for my hand.
Everything in me goes still.
“What are you doing?”
