He pulls back, signalling that I’ve taken it too far again. “Stop.”
“I am averygood secret keeper, Boston Black.”
“Not only do I not believe that, but it still doesn’t change anything. This shit would kill him. Even me answering that question. I know you enjoy poking me to see how far you can get but I’mnevergoing to give you that answer and it’snevergoing to go any further than a plus one with us.”
“Wedding date,” I correct.
Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don't like being told no. I also don’t like when men lie to me, and there is no way you aren’t interested when you look at my mouth that often, Boston Black.
Liar.
His eyes flash with amusement. “Drop it. Alright?”
“Fine,” I agree, bringing my drink to my lips. “For now.”
“For good.”
I angle my head again. “I don’t like permanence. Did you not know that about me?”
His grin widens, and that simply, I know I’m still in the game. He can say it’s not going to happen all he wants, but his tells are there. His words sometimes trail off when we maintain eye contact. He looks at my mouth when I speak. He tells me no, but then smiles when I keep pushing. I’m starting to think that when he says ‘never,’ he means ‘never say never.’ He just can’t admit that part.
I’m not even looking for an actualthingbetween us. A man of Boston’s caliber is of no interest to me. I just like chasing things I know I can’t have. I need him to bend a little—to give me a tiny, little taste—and I’ll know that I won, and I can lay it to rest.
That’swhen I’ll get over it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
boston
We’ve been backat the hotel for a couple of hours and the party hasn’t stopped. Declan reserved a block of rooms, so we’ve been gathered in one of the suites since the bar closed. Everyone is in a good mood. Everyone is still drinking. Even Cal has loosened up a bit, chatting more openly with Seth and EJ in the kitchen without needing one of us for support. Not even Caulfield.
I watched her slip out of the room thirty minutes ago and she hasn’t returned. She left her purse near the door, so after twenty minutes of her absence, I helped myself and found her keycard and her phone inside. Since then, I’ve been staring at the door, willing her to walk back in. I don’t like the idea of her roaming through the hotel drunk, without her room key or her phone. If she left the hotel all together, in a city she isn’t familiar with, I’ll rip her a new one on Forker’s behalf.
Fuck it.
I head for the door, not bothering to worry if anyone notices where I’m going or who I’m following. I tread down the hallway, looking in all the little alcoves and corners. All the spaces one could tuck themselves into. Nothing. I check the stairwell,heading to our floor a few below. I knock on her door, just in case. Nothing. She’s nowhere to be found.
A thought enters my head.
Where would a girl like Ariana Forkerro go when she is drunk and alone?
Shit.
I rush up to the roof, relief washing over me when I see a high heel jammed in the door to prevent it from locking behind her. That consolation is short-lived, though, because she’s still drunk and she’s still on a fucking roof.
I walk through the door and feel a tad bit better seeing a railing lining the perimeter. It would only take one stupid movement to fall right over, but it’s still a barrier. She better have both feet on the ground, a respectable distance away from that fucking thing.
I tread around the air conditioning unit.
Of course not.
But I do see her, and she’s in one piece.
I let out a breath, taking note of the champagne bottle in her hands, her elbows resting on the railing, eyes looking out toward a city full of strangers.
“Ari.”
