Page 123 of Dream On, Liar

I looked past her towards the packed venue. “Apparently very high.”

She smiled.

And there it was.

That smile had become one of my problems.

Not because it was particularly dramatic.

Because it changed her entire face.

She looked softer when she smiled like that. More free, somehow. Less guarded.

“You like Corbyn Lynch?” she asked.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Could’ve been here just to pass the time. Or the drinks.”

I winked. “That too.”

She laughed.

Fuck. I was in so much trouble.

The supporting artist hadn’t even come on yet, but the place was already loud enough that we had to lean closer to hear each other.

I caught the faint scent of her perfume.

Something clean.

Something warm.

I immediately hated the way my brain registered it.

“Are you here alone?” I asked.

“Yeah. You?”

I gave her a nod. “Which section are you in?”

Biting on her lower lip, she waited a beat. “Section C. I got them from a resale a few days ago, and it was the best they had—that didn’t cost an arm and a leg.”

“What do you think about joining me in the VIP tent?”

Maeve blinked. “Are you serious?”

I grinned. “My agent got me three spots in the tent. But, Raina wasn’t feeling well, so she couldn’t come, which meant Oliver ditched me too.”

Perching a hand on her hip, she narrowed her eyes. “Are you offering me leftovers?”

I raised a brow. “Well, yeah. Even if I had known the fact that you like Corbyn Lynch, I wouldn’t have invited you.”

She frowned then, almost like she’d taken my words to heart. “Why not?”

I shrugged. “You’re the one who said you don’t date Cricketers.”

Maeve’s jaw dropped slowly, and I could tell that she hadn’t expected them at all. “Who are you, and what have you done to Rihaan Patel?”