Finally she said, “Now, you can stop.” She turned off the spigot and grabbed some paper towels. “I’m surprised you agreed to do this.”
Parade up on stage while being auctioned off to the highest bidder? What could possibly be surprising about my agreeing to that?
He cleared his throat.
“I lost a bet.”
“What kind of bet?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Well, now I really want to know.”
He grinned. “Well, now I really don’t want to tell you.”
She peered at him with such intensity, he almost feared she’d be able to pierce his skull and read his mind.
“I’ll tell you this much,” he said, preferring to change the subject. “I’m not looking forward to it. I mean, would you like to parade on stage and—” He paused. “But then it’s different for you.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Because I’m a woman?”
He blinked. That wasn’t what he’d been thinking. He’d been thinking that if she had to do this, she’d go out there and own the catwalk.
He coughed. “No. Not because you’re a woman. Because you’re—well, you’re—you.”
His answer appeared to make matters worse. She was glaring at him.
Just then the door opened and Tilney stepped in. It took him a moment to get over his surprise. But once he did, he walked up and slung his arm over Ceci’s shoulder. “This guy bothering you?”
Clarke wanted to hear her say,no, but you are. He also wanted to take that arm and wrench it behind the asshole’s back until he heard both shoulder and elbow break. But Clarke restrained himself.
“Don’t be an ass, Tilney,” he huffed. “Take your arm off her. She doesn’t want you pawing her.”
Tilney laughed. “She’s a grown-ass woman who can speak for herself.”
“I am,” Ceci spat.
“Well, do you?” Clarke demanded.
“No,” she said, shrugging as she stepped away, causing Tilney’s arm to drop to his side. “But that’s for me to say.”
Tilney chuckled. “The guy can’t help himself. Always has to play at coming to the rescue, even when no rescue’s required. Or wanted. It’s some sort of complex. The stories I could tell.”
And the stories I could tell, you fucking wanker.
“Is that what you came back for?” he heard her ask.
Clarke looked in the direction she was pointing. There on a shelf above one of the sinks was a phone.
Tilney picked it up and pocketed it. He smiled at her. “Come with? I think the bidding’s going to start soon.”
“I have to wash my hands.”
Clarke felt his lip twitch, wanting so bad to smile.
Tilney shrugged and left.
He turned to her. “Both you and I know you already washed your hands.”
